Three Hundred Days
by Ms. Jane Doe
Summary: His eyes met mine and I saw in them that he, too, recognised the moment for what it was—that this would tell us exactly how long we had left with one another—and I knew that we had made a decision that would haunt us both for the rest of our lives. I knew that, if successful, I would never see him again. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, if you don't give that back to your sister this instant, I swear I'll...," I heard Mrs. Weasley yell, waking me up from where I'd nodded off on the book I'd been reading. I sat up and looked around to find that one of the chickens had gotten loose and was curled up at my side. With a quiet laugh at the strange image we must've made, I stood up and stretched, trying to wake myself up completely.

"Hey, Hermione. Reading anything good?" Ginny asked as she stepped out of the house, the sounds of her mother's scolding coming through the door.

"Just _The Death of Ivan Ilych_. What was all that about?" I asked, gesturing back toward the Burrow. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Ron took one of my posters out of my room. Mum noticed and thought it was unacceptable, but I don't really care," she explained with a shrug. "It's been there since I was about five."

"That would be why your mum is so upset about it. Even if change is inevitable, almost everyone tries to fight it," I sighed, glancing toward the house. _Like I'm still trying to fight fate. Everyone expects me to be with Ron and I know that's probably what will happen, but I can't help but want more. I want to be with someone intelligent, someone more like me, if I have to be with anyone at all. Despite what they seem to think, I believe I truly could be happy as an old maid_.

"All right, Hermione?" Ginny asked, perceiving my half-hidden depression and resignation easily.

"Yeah, I'm all right. I suppose I simply haven't figured out what to do yet. Despite the fact that the war's been over for nearly two years and I graduated last year with top marks, I feel lost. My job certainly isn't satisfying. A paper-pusher, after all I've learned! Even you've already got a better job than me. Your grades were good, of course, but mine were much higher and I should've been given something better than I got," I explained, knowing she wouldn't take offence to my words. "But I'm all right."

"Yes, you sound all right," Ginny retorted, rolling her eyes. "I think you need some excitement. Why don't we go visit Fred and George at the shop?"

"You know, I think that might just work," I agreed, smiling at the memories of pranks that the idea sparked.

"I'll let Mum know while you get your things."

...

"You know, we probably shouldn't have been drinking alone, especially in such a shady bar, but, Merlin, was that firewhiskey worth it!" I commented as Ginny and I stumbled out of the bar, arm in arm.

"Wasn't it? Just enough to drive off the edge of the depression," Ginny agreed as we headed absently down the darkening street. "Although Harry could take care of most of that for me. Moral git."

"Moral?" I asked, my muddled brain trying to process why that would be bad.

"Mm-hmm. Won't date me. Thinks it's wrong to date his best friend's sister, especially when I grew up hearing stories about him," she explained, her face twisted into a sour expression.

"Idiot. They all are, aren't they?" I asked. She nodded vehemently.

"Completely. 'Least you've got Ron, though. It's good to have someone to return your love," she argued, still nodding absently.

"I don't want Ron. I'll settle if I must, but I don't like him at all," I said quietly, feeling sober all of a sudden. She gave me an aghast expression, the horror clearing part of her inebriation as well.

"You don't? Then cut it off, Hermione! You can't settle!" she protested. I gave her a look of shock, surprised at her.

"Don't you want your brother to be happy?" I asked.

"Not if you're miserable. Hermione, you're my best friend. I'd rather see you happy than my brother. All we have to do is set food in front of him to make him recover," she explained, her expression indicating she had no great love for her youngest older brother at any rate. "Besides, he's too stupid for you. I've always thought it, but I didn't want to say anything that might hurt you."

"Honesty should be present even if it _does_ hurt," I informed her. Sobered by our conversation, I felt my depression settle back onto my shoulders heavily. Ginny and I walked along in silence for a long moment.

"Tell you what, Hermione. Let's promise to one another not to settle for anything less than our wildest dreams and to support one another in them, no matter how crazy an idea the other comes up with," Ginny suggested suddenly. I thought about it before nodding.

"Then we'll have someone to push us when we're ready to give up. It's a deal," I agreed, offering her my hand. She shook it with a smile. _And now I'll have support when I go to tell them that I shan't be with Ron, that I _can't_ be with Ron_.

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"How was work, Hermione?" Mum asked as I walked in the door.

"Horrid, as always. What about you, Mum? Any good stories?" I asked, settling down beside her on the couch and picking up my father's discarded Muggle newspaper.

"Well, there was a boy that came in today that needed his teeth cleaned. His sister sat through two root canals without a protest last week, but he screamed and cried until he had to be removed from the office," she answered with a small chuckle. "Some of them never grow up."

"If they grew up, they may take better care of their teeth, and then where would we be?" Dad interjected as he began to set the table. "'Lo, Hermione. Good day?"

"Oh, of course," I replied sarcastically as I went to help him. "What's for dinner tonight?"

"Bubble and squeak. It's too early in the week for real cooking," he informed me, the familiar twinkle in his eyes making me smile despite myself. He gave me a crinkly-eyed grin, the expression making him look almost as young as I was. "That's my pretty girl. Dinner's ready, love."

"Thank you for cooking, dear," Mum replied as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before taking her seat. They talked lightly though dinner, their conversation brightening my mood better than anything else I had tried. _They might be thirty years older than me, but they don't seem it. They're as young and lively as children_. When dinner was over, I followed them into the kitchen and put up the dishes as Mum washed them and Dad dried them, the conversation continuing easily.

"Oh, I almost forgot, Hermione. Are any of your friends coming over for Sunday dinner this week?" Dad asked, giving me a decidedly perceptive look.

"I might invite Harry and Ginny, if that's okay," I told him.

"What about Ron, dear? Harry, Ron, and you were inseparable a few weeks ago," Mum asked, frowning slightly as she turned toward me.

"Yes, well, it's time that changed," I replied quietly, hoping to evade further questions.

"I see. Your sudden depression and loss of weight wouldn't be related, would they? You're getting too skinny," Mum pointed out, poking me in the side.

"I'm not depressed and my weight hasn't changed for nearly a year, Mum. Anyway, I think I need a bath and a good night's sleep after such a long day at work. Love you. Night," I said easily, keeping my tone appropriately cheerful as I accepted quick hugs from both of them. Once I was safely upstairs in the bath, I let my frown return and deepen. _I'll have to work on my depression for sure. If Mum's noticed, it must be pitifully obvious. Oh, well. That can be corrected_.

...

"Do you need me to pick anything up while I'm out?" I asked, my bag hanging off my arm as I paused in the living room.

"Some milk, please. We're almost out since your father decided to start cooking," Mum called from the kitchen. Dad leaned around the wall to smile at me.

"Some eggs as well. Your mum's going to make a custard tonight," he added with a wink that told me she didn't yet know she'd be doing any such thing.

"All right. Eggs and milk," I repeated with a nod good-bye before I dropped Floo powder into the fireplace and took it to Diagon Alley for a bit of shopping. _I'll get the ingredients for a euphoria elixir, perhaps. It should help me fool my parents_. I bought my potions ingredients and browsed the other shops lightly, none too eager to return to my parents' home and the happiness that surrounded them and caused me such pain.

"Hermione! What are you doing out today?" Ginny called cheerfully as I stepped into the street again. I looked over to see her approaching with Harry at her side, his expression reluctant and unhappy.

"Oh, just a bit of shopping for a potion I wanted to try. What about you?" I asked, looking to Harry for an answer.

"Mrs. Weasley wanted some things and Ginny and I looked the least busy," he explained. I nodded and Ginny pulled the two of us toward a café, desiring a few minutes of conversation after my absence of two weeks. We talked easily through the afternoon, my presence comforting Harry by ensuring Ginny was far less likely to try anything. As we stood up to leave, however, a black-haired man, about our age, popped into existence against the railing beside our table.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, pushing Ginny back instantly as he drew his wand. The man blinked, black eyes closing in surprise and opening again with a flinty, hard look.

"I don't see why I should tell you, but I'm Severus Snape. I see that I'm in Diagon Alley, at least. Would any of you tell me the date?" he requested, looking at each of us before his eyes settled on mine.

"4th March 2000," I replied instinctively. His breath caught as he blanched.

"2000?" he repeated questioningly. I nodded and an angry look settled on his face. "Well, that's great. Trapped twenty years in the future. Bloody brilliant."

"I'm sorry, but did you say your name was Severus Snape?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide and her face pale.

"Yes, that's what I said. Why?" he asked in return.

"I...think it would be wise if you were to tell us how you got here," I suggested, knowing the other two would need me to take control of the situation. The young man who did, upon reflection, look like a younger, more dishevelled, and far scrawnier Snape, gave me a cross look.

"Why? Do you believe the three of you could be of assistance?" he asked mockingly. I pressed my lips into a thin line.

"I've only had a year's experience with time-turners and Harry defeated the Dark Lord in combat, so, no, we clearly couldn't be of any assistance to you," I replied haughtily. He didn't move and his expression didn't change, but I knew he was taken aback. _He didn't know about Voldemort, you idiot! You have to be careful what you say or you could mess up the time-stream even more_. "Now, then, would you like to tell us how you got here?"

"A time-turner accident, I believe. I wasn't _strictly_ supposed to be in that particular room of the Department of Mysteries, but I was curious. One moment, I was opening a cabinet door and, the next, I was here," he explained reluctantly, looking at me again.

"That's not good," I murmured, turning to where Harry and Ginny sat shocked. "I broke the cabinet in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. If we can't use a time-turner to get him back to his own time, what can we do?"

"The time-turners were all destroyed?" Snape asked, inhaling sharply. With more reluctance than purely necessary, I nodded. "Bloody brilliant, once again. Stuck in the future because of a frizzy-haired prude."

"Because of a what?" I asked, sitting up straighter with a shocked expression. "Well, I see you were just a sallow-faced supremacist as a boy as well. Good to know you were never any better than you were when you—."

"When I...?" he prompted after a moment, one eyebrow up questioningly at my sudden silence. I chewed on my lip nervously as I tried to think of a response that wouldn't hurt the time stream. "Well?"

"I'm not at liberty to answer your question, sorry. Time stream continuum and all that," I apologised, decidedly less upset at refusing him than I should've been, given his unfortunate circumstances.

"Hermione, shouldn't we do something about this?" Harry asked under his breath, shooting me a look. "Not that I want to, but you might be the only one that could come up with something."

"Pro—Severus, would you be opposed to coming with us? We have friends that may be able to help you," I suggested, half-hoping he wouldn't agree. With a searching look that suggested he knew my every thought, he nodded.

"I'll go with you for now. If possible, would you be able to send someone to my house to see if it's safe for me to return? I can give you the address," he requested. I bit my lip again, trying to determine how best to respond.

"Yes, we can check. Harry, please go check his house. Ginny, go warn your mother that you'll have a guest," I instructed. Ginny paused as Snape handed a slip of parchment with his address to Harry. "What is it, Ginny?"

"I don't think it would be a good idea for him to come to my house, Hermione. Mum and Dad were still at school when he started there, so they might've met before. Besides, you know Ron's too much of a fool not to blurt out everything he knows," she explained. I continued chewing on my lip, trying to think of a solution. Harry Apparated away and the pop startled me into realising the other two were watching me closely, waiting for my answer.

"You're probably right. Would you mind going ahead to my house to let my parents know we'll be having a guest? You and Harry are encouraged to stay for dinner as well, of course," I asked. She nodded and Disapparated, leaving me alone with the last person in the world I wished to be left with. _Well, perhaps besides Ron. He's worse. At least Snape was always working to save Harry, even if he was mean to us_. "Why don't you sit down while we wait? This might take a while."

"I've got time," he replied nastily, taking a seat nonetheless. We sat in an awkward silence as we waited for one of the others to return. "Bet they both got lost."

"Shouldn't you be a bit nicer to people trying to help you?" I asked exasperatedly. "I understand that you've just skipped twenty years of your life and you're confused and angry and probably frightened, but that doesn't give you the right to take it out on everyone else. We _could_ just turn you over to the Ministry. Then you'd never get home."

"My apologies, Miss...?" he prompted, his voice just hinting at sarcasm.

"Hermione Granger," I offered, irritated.

"In that case, my apologies, Hermione Granger," he returned silkily, suddenly charming enough to make me pause. "You're correct. I'm misbehaving because I don't know what to do and I don't like the thought of it."

"Well, can you at least _try_ to behave better in front of my parents?" I suggested, frowning at the thought. "It isn't like you'll be at my house very long."

"I will be as polite as you could possibly wish," he assured me as Harry Apparated back to the table.

"The house has been sold. Some other family lives there now," Harry told me.

"Okay. Is there anywhere else you can go, Pro—Severus?" I asked. He thought about it for a moment before he shook his head.

"No. I couldn't show up on anyone else's doorstep and expect a reasonable welcome," he replied as Ginny returned.

"Your Mum said you're running late. She expects you back in less than a minute with all your guests," she told me.

"Since you don't know where we're going, you'd best Side-Along with me," I sighed, offering my arm to Snape. He looked at me with a purely disgusted expression for half a second before he took it. "Let's go."

"Harry, it's so good to see you again, dear. And who is this, Hermione? Your new friend?" Mum asked, smiling cheerfully at us. I glanced toward Ginny to catch her shrug. _She's worse at making up stories than I am_.

"Yes, this is Severus Snape, Mum. He's another wizard...from school," I informed her, only hesitating a second. She missed the hesitation as she gave him a hearty handshake.

"Welcome, Severus. You know, your name sounds oddly familiar. Have you mentioned him before, Hermione?" Mum asked. I froze, but Harry saved me.

"No, must've been someone else. We weren't well acquainted until recently," he answered for me. I shot him a grateful look as Mum turned his way.

"I see. In that case, we'll have to make sure dinner is extra-special. I'd best make sure my beloved Mr. Granger doesn't mess up the meal," she excused, heading toward the kitchen. The four of us sat down in the living room, silent for a long moment.

"_Muffliato_," I cast quietly toward the kitchen door. "There. Now that we don't need to worry about being overheard, we'd best make a plan. Harry, would the Profess—Severus, rather—be able to stay with you?"

"I don't know that it would be a good idea, Hermione," he answered reluctantly, not meeting my eyes. "You know how Kreacher is. He'd say everything he knew and then where would we be?"

"That's a valid point. If he can't stay with either of you, though, where could he stay? You don't have any more ideas, Severus?" I asked, trying to include him in the conversation so he wouldn't protest and leave to cause more damage to time.

"You said that the Dark Lord was defeated? If that's the case, I don't have any ideas. None of them liked me much anyway," he shrugged.

"What about here, Hermione? He couldn't _possibly_ run into anyone he knows if he was staying in a Muggle house," Ginny suggested, giddy with the thought. I frowned, finding the expression mirrored by Snape. "I'll go ask your Mum and Dad."

"Oh, no, you won't. I don't know what you've _already_ told them, so you don't need to be saying anything else until you've told me that. We can't tell them a million different things," I stopped, grabbing her wrist to keep her from heading toward the kitchen. She plopped back into her seat with a frown.

"Fine, but all I've told them so far is that you met someone from school and wanted him to come over for dinner with Harry and me because it seemed polite and you'd like to continue the acquaintance," she grumbled.

"That's good. That leaves the possibilities open. Severus, any suggestions on what we could tell them? It is _your_ story, after all," I asked, turning toward him. He frowned deeply, clearly unhappy with the idea, but soon sighed, realising there were no other options.

"I don't remember agreeing to stay, but perhaps you could merely tell them that I have no other place to go. Your mother seems like a tender-hearted individual," he suggested.

"Yes, but she'll need a reason as to _why_ you can't go anywhere else. Oh, I know! A malfunctioning self-stirring cauldron blew up your house. With little money as a young adult, you had no choice but to seek out help and we happened to stumble upon you first," I decided, the plan reasonable, with enough magic involved to ensure my parents wouldn't try to understand.

"Fine. Shall I wait for you to tell them or should I mention it at dinner?" Snape asked, his voice a dry, droning sound that hinted at supressed malice.

"I'll take care of it."

...


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"This is the guest room, where you'll be staying. I'll be next door if you need anything," I told Snape, opening the door to his temporary abode. The room was white, pristine and vaguely feminine, and I saw a look of anger and disgust cross his face before he could hide it. "Harry's going to bring by some spare clothes for you. If there's anything else you need, let me know. This must be hard for you, being stuck in the future in a Muggle home, and I'll do what I can to help with that."

"Thank you," he muttered, clearly only irritated by my words. He looked up with a profound maliciousness in his eyes. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all for now. I'll bring the clothes by later," I told him, pulling the door closed. I paused in the hallway for a moment, surprised to find that I was unaffected by his anger. _I knew what to expect, I suppose. With my memories of him as a Professor, I guess I knew to expect anger and ungratefulness and not much more. Besides, he probably _is_ frightened and confused and his coping method may be to make everyone else just as miserable_. I headed back downstairs to find Mum and Dad sitting quietly in the living room, not bothering to pretend to be doing anything.

"Hermione, what is he going to do?" Mum asked concernedly, glancing toward the stairs.

"He doesn't know. If we don't let him stay, he won't have anywhere to go. He has no family and no real friends," I answered, frowning.

"He can stay here as long as he needs to, of course. Does he have a job?" Dad asked.

"No, he lost it," I replied, trying not to blush at my lies so they wouldn't ask any more questions.

"Hermione, this Severus Snape isn't related to that Professor Snape you had, is it? A son, maybe?" Dad asked, giving me a perceptive look. Chewing on my lip, I sat down.

"Swear not to mention anything I tell you? Good. He's the same. Somehow, a young Severus Snape managed to travel forward in time. Harry, Ginny, and I are trying to find a way to send him back. If we can't get him back or if he finds out about his death or anything else that might change him significantly, we could cause a dangerous rift in the time stream. If possible, we should keep him in the Muggle world completely. He'll be in less danger that way," I whispered, hoping he wasn't somehow listening.

"We'll do what we have to, Hermione. I can't believe a young man as polite as he is could develop into such a cruel professor, though. He seems perfectly nice," Mum commented. A blank expression crossed my face before I could conjure an appropriate response. _Perfectly nice? I suppose she _hasn't_ seen our bickering so far_.

"Will keeping him here put us in any danger? If so, what do we need to do to prepare for that?" Dad asked, knowing it would be important to be prepared. I shrugged.

"Theoretically, it shouldn't be dangerous to keep him here. In actuality, who can say?" I answered. The fireplace suddenly turned green and I looked toward it as Harry stepped out, brushing the cinders off himself.

"Here, Hermione. It's all I had. They might be a bit short, though," he told me apologetically, handing me a bundle of clothes. "If they're too small, I can see if Ron has any. He's closer to Snape's height."

"I'll go check. Wait here, okay?" I requested, waiting for his nod before I headed back upstairs. I knocked on the door softly. "Severus, Harry dropped off some robes. He asked that you try them on to see if they fit before he leaves, in case he needs to find different ones."

"Fine," Snape answered, taking the bundle from my hands before shutting the door again. After a moment, I heard an oath and knocked on the door again.

"All right?" I asked. The door opened to reveal that the borrowed robes hardly reached past his knee, the sleeves halfway up his forearm. Despite the murderous look on his face, I couldn't stop myself from laughing, leaning on the doorframe as I tried to catch my breath. "Okay, I'll tell him to bring others. Bring those down when you're back in your own, please."

"Right," he agreed, his face completely white with anger at my apparent lack of sympathy. I giggled all the way downstairs and shook my head at Harry's questioning look.

"Way too short, Harry," I told him, beginning to catch my breath again. A moment later, Snape came down the stairs, shooting me a warning look that made me turn hysterical, and set the bundle of robes on the arm of Harry's chair.

"It would seem that the robes won't quite work. Thank you for trying," Snape murmured, no doubt deciding to enchant my parents further. I picked up a pillow to try to smother my giggles, the image in my memory too funny for me to control myself.

"Why don't you give me your measurements so I can find some in the right size? Surely someone has robes to spare," Harry asked. I looked over the edge of the pillow as Snape conjured parchment and a quill and wrote the desired numbers on it. "Thanks. I'll be back."

"See you, Harry," I waved, avoiding looking at Snape to calm my hilarity.

"Oh! I almost forgot about that custard. Help me, dear?" Mum exclaimed, giving Dad a look. He nodded and they disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Snape and me alone.

"Sorry. They don't know quite how to act around you yet," I apologised, smiling, but keeping my laughter in check. He turned toward me darkly, the carefully grateful expression he'd adopted in front of my parents gone.

"Neither do you, clearly," he spat. I hid my smile behind my hand in an effort not to incense him further.

"Well, I'm sorry, but you've been so angry with me that it was too much for me to see you looking so thoroughly humiliated. I knew the robes would be too short, but I never thought it would be so hilarious," I answered unapologetically. He glowered at the fireplace, the scowl on his face so exaggerated that it forced me to restrain another chuckle. _Besides, I've tried being nice. I said nice things. As that clearly wasn't effective, I'll say and do just as I please_.

"Why are you still living with your Muggle parents?" he asked, the sneering quality to his voice almost silenced as he tried to break the silence.

"Oh, I wanted to save up a bit more before I moved out. Besides, my parents seem to think I might not survive long if I was living on my own. They always mention something about needed to take breaks from reading for silly things like eating and sleeping," I explained. "I take it you didn't live with your parents, then?"

"My parents are dead," he replied quietly.

"Oh. _Oh_. I'm so sorry. Forgive me for—for—," I stuttered apologetically, flushing brightly. He shrugged.

"They did me a favour when they died. No need to apologise," he assured me carelessly. I looked at him in shock. Although his expression was as emotionless as his voice, he didn't meet my gaze. _He does care, at least a little, I think. That's good_.

"So where did you live, exactly?" I asked, trying to return the conversation to our previous topic.

"Spinner's End, Cokeworth. It's a dirty, nasty sort of place, but the house was left to me," he answered, his face twisted in disgust. _And Lily lived there. That's why. It has to be_.

"I've been to Cokeworth, once," I commented, deciding it would be best not to talk about my opinion of the place in case he would be offended from a non-inhabitant's opinions. "It's very different from here. Do you think your room will be sufficient?"

"It will do," he replied. We were spared from further comment by the return of Harry.

"These are the right size. They're all black, as I thought that would be what you would want. I picked up some underclothes, pyjamas, and a few cloaks as well," Harry informed him, handing him a larger bundle than before. "Hope you don't mind, but I bought everything new. If you must, you can pay me back when you can, but don't worry about it now. I've got to go meet Ron, so I'll see you. Bye."

"A disgrace to our House," I muttered with a shake of my head. "Absolute coward."

"I thought you might be Gryffindors. The red-head as well, doubtless," Snape commented, sounding pleased with his mental abilities. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, you're a Slytherin—a wannabe Death Eater—staying in the home of a Muggle-born Gryffindor. The horror," I muttered impatiently. He gave me a look that told me he didn't believe I had any right to mock him, despite his own behaviour. "I think I'll tell Mum and Dad I'm tired. I wouldn't want to force my company upon you any longer."

...

"Miss Granger, where is my report?" my boss boomed, stopping by my desk. I placed the desired folder in his hands instantly, unsurprised that he walked off without any acknowledgement. With a sigh, I continued writing up the next report. _Only a few more months before he retires. If I keep working hard and I'm lucky, I might get his job, or perhaps his secretary will take it and I can take hers. Surely they won't keep me here, with as hard as I work_.

"Any plans for tonight?" Ginny asked as we headed outside for lunch.

"No, not now. It wouldn't be very fair for me to go out and leave my parents alone with our guest," I reminded her.

"What about Muggle plans? You could take him to some of your stores or something. I'd come along," Ginny offered. I frowned.

"I don't know if that would be a good idea. We know how much he hates anything non-magic," I returned. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, he'll have to get over that, if we can't figure out how to send him back soon. Besides, he'll probably be desperate to leave your house soon. _I_ would be by the end of a week," she pointed out.

"True. He's probably going to go stir crazy. Have any of your inquiries gained you any ideas?" I asked. "My research has shown me nothing, so far. It all comes back to time-turners."

"No, I haven't found anything either. I'm going to ask my boss tomorrow," she replied, frowning.

"Hasn't grown on you yet, has he?" I asked, perceiving her continued dislike of the man. She shook her head.

"No, of course not. He's too interested. Just because I'm his subordinate doesn't mean _I_ am, though. When Harry came to give me a message from Mum the other day, he glared at him for a full five minutes before he demanded Harry leave so I could get back to work," she complained. I smiled.

"At least he knows you exist," I pointed out. She rolled her eyes, but smiled as well.

"If only we could mix them and create two perfectly balanced superiors."

"If only."

...


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Why do your parents always leave or hide in the kitchen after dinner?" Snape asked sourly, glaring at the front door they had disappeared through.

"They don't know how to act around you. Since it wouldn't cause any damage, I've told them most of what's going on. It makes them nervous," I explained with a shrug. "Besides that, they aren't used to males of your age unless there's a dental drill between them."

"As my teeth are in good health and you seem to be incapable of finding me a way back to my own time, they should get used to it," he commented drily. Before I spat something back at him, I looked his way and saw in his expression how heavily three weeks in the house weighed upon him.

"Do you want to go with me to the supermarket tomorrow? I always go on Saturdays and it should be safe for you to join me," I asked. He frowned and looked at me suspiciously for a long moment, searching me for any trickery or hidden motives.

"Fine," he agreed. "Don't expect me to carry the basket."

"Don't think I would let you."

...

"Any news, Harry?" I asked as he stepped out of the fireplace to join Ginny, Snape, and I in the living room. He shook his head with an apologetic look.

"Nothing. I've asked the other Aurors, but they don't have any ideas besides time-turners," Harry told me.

"Mum mentioned a potion, but I looked it up and it only makes you think you're in the past for a few hours. There doesn't seem to be anything. What about you, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"I've read every book I could find on the subject of time and none of them had anything more useful than that. I think we'll have to devise some new method," I admitted. Snape gave me a look of surprised protest.

"I think not. If _you_ three come up with anything, I will refuse to try it for my own safety," he informed us. "Bloody Gryffindors."

"If you don't try whatever we think of, you won't be able to return. There are no existing methods," I repeated, keeping myself carefully calm. _Remember what a state he's in. Ignore or forgive his rudeness_.

"Besides, if you're going to be an ungrateful git, I don't see why we should help," Ginny added airily.

"That says a lot coming from a—," Snape managed before I interrupted.

"That's enough, both of you! We've got to work together to solve this. Ginny, we all know Severus isn't the easiest to deal with, but that doesn't give you the right to insult him. As for you, Severus, you ought to show _a little_ gratitude. I know we aren't the first three you would've picked to ask for help—indeed, we may have been the last,—but we're all you've got right now and you should treat us appropriately. I know you can, after all. You behave perfectly in front of my parents," I said decisively, ending their argument before one or both of them felt sufficiently insulted to make leaving acceptable.

"Do you have any ideas on what we could try, Hermione?" Harry asked, glancing toward Snape and Ginny as they glared at one another.

"Time-turners are too difficult for us to try. Of that, there can be no doubt. However, I do like the idea of a potion. After all, if your mind can be transported back, why can't your body?" I suggested, hoping they wouldn't instantly argue, as I expected. Instead, they each sat silent in thought.

"Yes, it makes sense," Ginny agreed with a nod.

"I don't see why it's any crazier than anything else we could think of," Harry conceded. We all turned to Snape expectantly.

"Very well, but _I_ brew the potions," he assented. I smiled.

"I thought you might say that."

...


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Are you sure I can't go with you to the apothecary's?" Snape asked, his brows furrowed slightly as he tried to think of some other method of making me agree.

"Sorry, but it's too dangerous. You know that," I replied, unhappy to see the forlorn look in his eyes. "When I get back, we'll go to the shops for the week's supplies. If you'd like, perhaps we can stop at the library as well."

"That would be nice," he answered reluctantly, not wanting to seem eager or grateful if he could help it. I offered him a smile nonetheless before I turned toward the fireplace and took the Floo to Diagon Alley, my favourite place to shop despite the many other locations available. I stepped into the street lightly and looked around at the many people before heading to the apothecary's. Carefully, I gathered the items on the list we'd compiled and picked up a few promising books as well, throwing them into a new cauldron for him to use. _Hopefully something here will work. If not, I suppose we'll think of something else_.

"Did you get everything?" Snape asked as I brushed the ashes off myself. I nodded and handed him the cauldron.

"Yes, I got everything. I bought a few more books as well, just in case," I told him. He pulled the books out and looked over them before setting them on the table. "Would you like to go shopping now?"

"Yes. The potion can wait a bit longer," he agreed, looking none too happy to walk away from the job, but eager to get out of the house.

"In that case, you may want to change into some Muggle attire or, at the very least, glamour your robes to look like it. We'd attract far too much attention if you went out looking like that," I pointed out. He frowned, but slipped out his wand and glamoured his clothes before returning it. "Much better. We should probably visit the library first so the food doesn't spoil."

"Bright, aren't you?" he commented sarcastically. I restrained myself from lashing out, reminding myself again of his predicament.

"Yes, I'm commonly thought to be so. Let's go," I replied lightly, keeping a cheerful quality to my voice. He gave me a distrusting look, but followed me out the door. I waved at one of the neighbours while I locked it. "Hello, Mrs. Oswald! Good to see you!"

"You're looking well, dear. Who is that fellow with you, may I ask?" the woman asked.

"Oh, this is Severus, a friend of mine. He's staying with us," I explained. "Well, we'd best be off to the shops. Good day to you!"

"And to you!" she replied cheerily. Snape kept silent as we walked toward the library and I did my best to ignore his surly expression, focusing instead on the bright, warm day. _You know, I think all this trouble with him is doing me good. There's nothing like a challenge to relieve depression_. Once we reached the library, we separated to browse the books. I quickly checked the new arrivals to find that there were only a few I hadn't read and picked them up before waiting by the entrance for him to return.

"Well, come on, Severus! We've been here nearly two hours," I muttered, tapping my foot impatiently. I waited another five minutes before going up to the main desk.

"What can I do for you, love?" the matronly librarian asked, smiling down at me. I returned her smile.

"Would you be able to page my friend for me? He's been gone for the longest time," I asked sweetly.

"Of course, love. What's his name?" the librarian asked.

"Severus Snape," I answered. She turned around toward a different side of her circular desk.

"Would Severus Snape please report to the entrance?" the librarian announced over the intercom. She turned back toward me. "That all you needed, sweetie?"

"Yes, thank you," I replied, giving her a smile before returning to my post by the door. Within five minutes, Snape returned, his arms full of books and his expression perfectly murderous. "We'd best leave, Severus. The shops will be closed."

"In a moment," he snapped, heading toward the desk. Once his books were signed out, he joined me, looking comical and awkward with so many books in his arms.

"Did you get enough?" I laughed as we left the building. He glared at me.

"As I don't know when you'll deem it appropriate to allow me to return, I can't answer that question," he murmured, irritation and silkiness vying for my attention in his voice. I rolled my eyes and led him to the shops. Once we gathered what we needed for the week, we returned to my house and I put everything away while Snape shut himself in the guest room with his books.

"Get everything, sweetie?" Mum asked as she leaned in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Yes, Mum. Would you mind taking those bags to put everything away? I can finish with the food myself and then start dinner," I answered, gesturing toward the other supplies we'd needed. She nodded.

"Consider it done, Hermione, love," she said with a smile, picking them up to leave me alone in the kitchen. Once dinner was started, I noticed that there were dishes and stepped up to wash them. _Pretty day out_, I thought as I looked out the window. In the yard across the alleyway, children were playing in a little pool. I smiled at their antics before I sighed. _They're so happy. I pray they stay so_.

"All right, dear?" Dad asked as he stepped into the kitchen. I sent the best smile I could manage over my shoulder with a nod.

"'Course. How was work today?" I asked in reply, drying my hands as I finished washing the dishes.

"It's Saturday, Hermione," he reminded me, rolling his eyes with a chuckle. "Honestly, sometimes I worry you never stop thinking about work."

"It's good for my career, at least," I shrugged lightly. He hugged me before guiding me toward the living room.

"Yes, well, your life is more than a career. Let's have a talk, shall we? We haven't had any deep discussions in quite a while and I miss arguing with my dear daughter."

...

"We should do something tonight, Ginny. I'm so tired of work and home," I sighed as we waited for our lunch.

"What about dinner? We could go somewhere nice," she proposed. I shrugged.

"Seems reasonable. Why don't you pick somewhere for us? Perhaps we could invite Harry as well. I haven't spoken with him in nearly a week," I suggested. A sour expression crossed her face. "Or not. I can always send him a letter."

"Honestly, I don't know what to do about him. If he's really so stupid as to think being Ron's friend means he can't like me, perhaps he isn't worth my time at all," she commented, rolling her eyes.

"Perhaps it's time for you to stop pursuing and wait to be pursued. Someone else is bound to notice your worth," I replied, feeling a smirk creep onto my face. "Your boss, for instance."

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, hitting my arm with her purse while we both laughed. Her laughter cleared to a thoughtful expression. "He isn't _so_ bad, I suppose. If no one else presents himself, I may very well agree to one of his dates. He certainly has the money aspect of my future plans."

"That's the spirit," I agreed, raising my glass. "To the future."

"To our dreams, however unachievable."

...


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"You know, now that I think about it, it should be safe for you to go to the library as you please. There aren't any other witches or wizards that frequent it," I told Snape as I watched him work on the potion we had designed.

"You couldn't have told me that sooner?" he asked drily, glancing over his shoulder at me with irritation.

"You couldn't be a bit nicer, could you?" I retorted. "How long will the potion take to brew, anyway? I need to know how long to keep the Floo disconnected."

"Five months should finish it. Being a time potion, it won't be finished quickly," he informed me. I wrinkled my nose at the thought and he saw it as he glanced at me again. "Although suffering through your company that long may kill me before I get the chance to return."

"Kill you? No, it may kill _me_. How is it that you can be so polite and—dare I say it?—_amiable_ with my parents, but then so irritating and angry with me?" I asked, scowling at him. He smirked in a way that left me in no doubt as to whether or not he would indeed grow into the Professor Snape I'd known.

"Your parents aren't idiots," he replied, turning back toward the cauldron. For a moment, I stared at the back of his head in shock.

"Well, good to know we don't need to worry about you being _altered_ when we send you back. You're just as cantankerous as I remembered," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. He turned toward me.

"Can you blame me for giving biting remarks when I'm stuck with a girl like _you_? Prudish, depressed, imbecilic. I've never met another I've been so certain would become a batty old maid," he retorted. I inhaled sharply.

"Is that _really_ what you think of me?" I asked.

"Obviously," he scoffed, glancing back toward the potion. "The potion needs no attention for now. I'll be in my room."

"No, you won't. I've had enough. Pack your things and get out of my house," I commanded, pointing toward the stairs. One of his eyebrows rose.

"Classic Gryffindor temper, I see," he commented. "Very well. If you wish to turn me out and ensure the time stream is damaged, I'll go my way. It's your future."

"It is," I confirmed. "Now go."

With a haughty, unconcerned smirk, he headed toward the stairs. I stood in the living room for a long time, working on calming myself. _He's insufferable, but I can't _really_ make him leave, can I? It would be too dangerous. I have to help_. With great reluctance, I quietly made my way up the stairs and stopped in front of his door. _C'mon, Hermione. You can do this_. Before I could work up my courage to knock on the door, it opened.

"I'll say this once and, if you ever mention it again, I'll hit you with so many curses not even your ashes will survive. I was out of turn. Unfortunately, I need your assistance and, although I cannot and will not promise to show _gratitude_, I will restrain the worst of my comments in the future," Snape fumed before slamming the door in my face. I stared at the white door with wide eyes. _Did he just apologise? To me? Perhaps he's changing some after all_.

"Hermione, we're home!" Dad called from downstairs. Shaking myself from the shocking event of his almost-apology, I conjured a smile and went to meet my parents.

...

"Gryffindor! There isn't any soap!" Snape shouted from the bathroom upstairs, his voice carrying over the sound of the shower.

"I don't see how that's my problem, Severus," I called back, frowning. _Ever since his not-really-apologetic apology, he's been far worse_.

"If you don't bring soap up, you'll never be able to trust your shampoo again," he returned.

"Don't you dare touch my shampoo!" I bellowed, stomping up the stairs.

"Ten...nine...eight...," he counted. As he reached two, I cracked the bathroom door open and held a bar of soap around it, carefully keeping my eyes on the wall across the hall. He snatched it instantly.

"Your welcome," I snapped as I closed the door again. He chuckled and I found myself smiling, shaking my head at his foolishness. _Things could be worse. He isn't _completely_ unlike my friends, at least_. As soon as he met me back downstairs, however, I knew that I had been suffering from a bad bout of wishful thinking. I listened to his snide comments for as long as I could, but I soon knew I had to leave. "You're on your own today. I'm sick of you."

"A mutual feeling, I assure you," he drawled in response. With an angry huff, I headed outside, slamming the front door behind me. _Like I wanted to spend my Sunday alone with you anyway_. After a few minutes, I realised I hadn't decided where to go. _Eh, it isn't like I have anything to do, really_, I thought, deciding to walk around until I found some shop or other that struck my fancy. I spotted a new bookstore and stepped inside instinctively. After a few minutes, I realised that not even the books were cheering me up and left the store to return home. Once I reached my doorstep, I paused outside as I heard laughter. Snape's voice followed and I heard my parents laugh again.

"No. I can't," I muttered, turning away from the door again. I headed to the alley and Apparated to Diagon Alley. With a sigh, I requested a table at Florean's and sat down with a crumble cake. I poked at it without eating it, trying to delay returning to my house for as long as I could. _Why is it that they get along with him so well? I think they may like him even better than Harry! Why?_

"Doing all right, Hermione?" Florean asked as he walked past. "You haven't touched your food. Is something wrong with the cake?"

"Oh, not at all. It seems I'm not hungry after all. Have a good day, sir," I replied, smiling as I stood to leave. He nodded and went to the next table. With a sigh, I Apparated to my room at home and sat down on my bed heavily.

"Home, Hermione?" Dad called.

"Yeah, I'm home. I've already eaten dinner, though, and I'm a bit tired, so I'll see you tomorrow," I returned, leaning back into my unforgiving mattress.

...


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"I'm going to kill him, Ginny, I swear I am," I muttered, glaring darkly at the railing where he'd appeared weeks ago. "Anyway, how did your date with your boss go?"

"Very well, actually. I thought it might be a bit strange, but it turned out to be the best date I've been on in a year or so," she replied. With a little prompting from me, she told me about the entire date and I smiled and laughed with her despite my growing depression. She saw through it. "Still feeling down, Hermione?"

"A little. I'll get over it soon enough," I assured her.

"Perhaps a little pick-me-up may be in order. Why don't I set you up on a date with someone? It's been forever since you've been on one," Ginny suggested.

"Forever? I last had a date—I haven't had a date. Oh, wait! Viktor took me to the Yule Ball," I replied. She rolled her eyes.

"In your fourth year. C'mon, Hermione. It would do you a world of good and I have a few options in mind," she pleaded. Knowing I would regret it, I sighed and nodded. "Great! I'll have you a date for Friday, guaranteed."

"How exciting," I grumbled.

...

"Well, you look nice, Hermione. What's the occasion?" Mum asked as I walked into the living room to look for my handbag. I blushed, glancing down at my turquoise sweater and black suit.

"Believe it or not, I have a date," I admitted, picking up my purse when I found it.

"Really? Who, love?" Dad asked, looking at me over the top of his newspaper.

"Quite frankly, I don't know. Ginny set it up," I replied, trying to ignore the feeling of three sets of eyes watching me. A knock on the door nearly made me jump out of my skin.

"I'll get it, dear," Mum assured me with a smile. While she answered the door, I brushed off my suit jacket to ensure it had no lint on it.

"Hermione, I presume," a gentleman a bit older than me greeted as Mum showed him into the room. I offered him my hand.

"Yes, I'm Hermione. And you are?" I asked.

"Ragmar Dorkins, manager of the Chudley Canons," he introduced. _Chudley Canons_, I thought. _Chudley Canons...Why do I know that name? Oh, Quidditch!_

"Pleased to meet you, Ragmar. We'd best be going. Ginny said the reservation was for six," I suggested, not wanting to introduce him to my parents or Snape, just in case. He offered me his arm and led me out. The entire way to the restaurant, he talked about Quidditch. _It never fails. Males and their Quidditch. Perhaps one day I'll actually learn the rules_. Deciding I'd had enough, I interrupted, "So how do you know Ginny?"

"Ginny? You mean Miss Weasley! Her boss owns half my team, so I'm in his office more often than not. As you know, she's his personal assistant and there's not a brighter, prettier witch in all of England," he praised. He seemed to remember me and blushed brightly. "Barring you, of course."

"I've yet to be granted such a position, thank you," I murmured in reply, careful to look forgiving even while I planned the telling off I would give Ginny the next time I saw her. _I am _never _letting her set me up with anyone again_.

...


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Are you going to the library, Severus? Would you mind greatly if I joined you?" I asked eagerly as I saw him heading toward the door. He glared at me.

"What, the glorious Gryffindor doesn't have a date tonight?" he asked mockingly, knowing just how horrible my date had gone from listening to me yell at Ginny.

"Never mind, Severus. I forgot that I can't bear your company long without contemplating murder," I replied, throwing myself face down onto the couch. He snickered, but I didn't look up until I heard the door close. With a sour look, I sat up. "Like _he's_ been on a great many successful dates."

"Oh, you're still here, Hermione. I thought you would've gone with Severus," Mum remarked with mild surprise as she began to tidy the room. "He's a good boy, that Severus. Polite, kind, intelligent. When you brought him home, I thought he would be a horrid houseguest, but I do believe he's the very best we've ever had."

"Severus?" I asked, frowning at her in confusion.

"Of course, dear. Who else?" she replied impatiently. I stared at her back as she cleaned, unwilling to process her words. After a moment, she straightened and glanced over her shoulder at me. "If it wouldn't harm the time stream, sweetie, I would suggest you date the boy. He'd be a good match for you."

"We can't be talking about the same Severus," I commented, shaking my head. "Unless you've been Confunded."

"Well, I don't know what that means, but I don't think I have been," she informed me, rolling her eyes at me. "Oh, would you mind changing the linens in the guest room? I haven't quite got there yet."

"Yeah, sure," I agreed, heading upstairs. Finding it incredibly strange to be in Snape's room, I worked quickly, but couldn't fail to notice how clean and organised his room was. _He's nothing like Harry or Ron. Harry's room isn't bad, but Ron's a complete slob_. I shook myself from the comparisons and replaced the dirty linens with clean ones, adding the old ones to the laundry.

"Thanks, love," Mum said as she met me in the hallway, offering me one of her usual cheery smiles. I returned it and nodded.

"No problem, Mum."

...

"You know, this potion looks _a lot_ like the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Are you _certain_ you're making the time potion?" I asked, frowning at the solution in the cauldron.

"I'm certain, Gryffindor," Snape replied, irritated with my doubt. I turned toward him to find his scowl mirroring my own.

"Why do you call my 'Gryffindor' all the time? I have a name. It's 'Hermione.'" I reminded him. He shrugged.

"It would be too familiar. I want you to know that I don't like you," he explained. I rolled my eyes.

"Believe me, I'm in no doubt of that. You could call me by any name and I would still know that just as well as I do now," I assured him. He chuckled to himself and I frowned suspiciously, eyes narrowed. "Why are you laughing?"

"No reason," he replied in a charming voice, smirking at me. My frown deepened in distrust.

"I see. I'm going to the shops. Need anything?" I asked. He shook his head. "Good. I wasn't going to get anything for you."

"Unsurprising," he commented as I picked up my handbag and headed toward the door. "Later, Gryffindor."

"Right. With an axe in my hand," I muttered. _Only four months left, Hermione. That's not so long, not really, and then he'll be back in his own time and out of your house. Then you can go back to your normal life_, I promised myself. The thought made me frown. _That isn't consoling. How about, 'Then you can have a good and happy life with your new promotion, Hermione' or 'Then perhaps you will find someone better for a date' or 'Then you'll find a new book series you haven't read.' That's the one. I don't need to wait until he's gone, though. I can find myself a new series to cheer myself up_.

...


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Thanks for coming over, Ginny. I know it's a bit late and you've just got off from work, but I could really use the company," I thanked as she helped me go through the spare bedroom that had become the household storage room. She smiled.

"It's nothing, Hermione. We haven't been hanging out very much since I've been seeing the boss," Ginny replied. I saw the brightness in her eyes and forced a smile onto my face in support of her happiness. "Still sure you don't want me to set up a new date for you?"

"I'm sure. I've had my fill of men, for now. _Especially_ Quidditch players," I assured her with a light laugh. She returned it and told me about the newest scandal she'd picked up in the resting room at work. I gasped and laughed as needed, surprised by how foolish the people we worked with were.

"Oh, hello, Ginny. Good to see you again," Dad greeted when he walked past the door.

"Good to see you as well, Mr. Granger. All right?" Ginny asked, giving Dad one of her most cheerful, charming smiles.

"Better than 'Mione's date last week," he replied, his eyes twinkling.

"Dad!" I protested as they laughed.

"Sorry, love, but I couldn't help myself. Dinner will be ready in just a few," he said before heading back downstairs.

"Oh, Hermione, look! Remember this?" Ginny asked, holding up a picture of Harry, Ron, and I from about second year.

"That was ages ago!" I exclaimed, taking the box the photograph had come from to look through it. "Look, here's one of you and me in third year. I wonder when Mum and Dad found all of these."

"I think my mum may have sent them. She has one just like this," Ginny explained, holding up another picture. She gasped suddenly and picked up a different photograph. "Look at this. It's Harry, Snape, and Lockhart. Remember when Lockhart had the picture taken?"

"How could I forget? He always wanted an excuse to get new copies of his face," I mused, rolling my eyes at the memory. "We'll have to hide it from Severus, though. He might recognise himself."

"You're right. I'll take it back to the Burrow to hide it. Have any of my parents or anyone else? I should take them as well, just in case," she asked. We found any other possibly dangerous pictures and she put them in her handbag to take with her.

"We've gone through the room, so I suppose we're done. I didn't have anything else planned," I said, glancing around the room to see that we had organised it far quicker than I had hoped.

"Let's go bother your houseguest. He's looking rather attractive today," Ginny suggested. I stared at her blankly, making her laugh.

"Ginny?" I asked confusedly, wondering if she was the same girl I'd been talking to five minutes ago. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, if _you_ haven't noticed, don't be surprised that _I_ have. And, trust me, we both know that your judgment in men is inferior to mine," she laughed. I considered pretending to be offended, but we both knew she was right. "Now let's go see your sexy Slytherin."

"Excuse me for a moment. I'm going to fill the bathroom sink up with water and then put my head in it until I stop bubbling," I informed her, getting up stiffly as my brain tried to implode.

"Ooh, what if I set you up with _him_? Wouldn't that just be delicious? Our good little bookworm with the clever double agent?" Ginny exclaimed, clapping her hands together in front of her with a wild look. I groaned in exasperation and buried my face in my arm against the wall. "Oh, honestly, Hermione, I'm only teasing. Who knows what that would do to time?"

"Irreparable damage, doubtless. Let's pretend this conversation never happened, okay?" I requested.

"So long as you remember to see if he's as attractive as I said."

...

"Breakfast," I called, knocking on Snape's door as I passed it. I heard it open as I reached the top of the stairs and glanced back to see Snape shirtless and looking, as Ginny had said, rather attractive. I paused in my steps, staring openly. _She was right. He's...certainly something to look at_.

"What?" he snapped, catching me as he headed toward the bathroom. I turned around quickly to hide my blush.

"Nothing," I squeaked as I ran down the stairs as fast as I could.

"All right, Hermione? You seem flushed," Dad commented as I took my seat in silence.

"Yes, fine," I returned, my voice still higher than usual. With an effort, I composed myself and focused on the cheery conversation of my parents. Once Snape entered the room, however, my composure was more difficult to keep. _Don't think about it, Hermione. Think of your new books or Mum and Dad. Better yet, think of all the reasons you can't stand him. Surely you can convince yourself to think of that and _not_ how absolutely—_enough_, Hermione. That is quite enough_. "Did you check the potion yet?"

"Yes. It's brewing properly," he returned, giving me a curious look that made me feel like he wouldn't easily give up trying to discover why I was staring that morning.

"That's good. Is there anything I need to pick up on my way home from work or do you have all the ingredients you need for now?" I asked.

"Nothing more will be needed for the potion," he assured me before turning his attention to my father. _He doesn't seem very happy. I wonder why?_ I glanced toward my watch and finished breakfast quickly, washing my dishes before heading toward the door.

"Good-bye!" I called as I walked out. _I can't be late. I've never been late. I'm always early_, I thought as jogged down the street. By the time I made it to my desk, I discovered that I'd made it, but just barely.

"Looking frazzled, Hermione," Ginny commented as she passed my desk on the way to her own.

"I was running late. Oh, and we need to talk at lunch," I replied as I got out the parchments for the day. She nodded as she turned the corner and disappeared. For a few hours, I worked in silence. _I wish someone was here to talk to, but nobody seems to like me much_.

"Miss Granger!" my boss bellowed from his office. "I want you to come here immediately!"

"Yes, sir," I called, following his instructions to find him leaning back in his chair, his feet on his desk. "What did you need, sir?"

"Have a seat, Miss Granger. I would like to talk," he instructed. My heart pounding, I took the seat across from his, sitting with my back as straight as possible. "Your work is always very thorough, Miss Granger, and that is good. However, it has been brought to my attention that you are not well-liked in the office. Would you care to explain why?"

"Sir?" I asked, confused. "I wouldn't know, sir. People don't come my way very much, of course, with where my desk is placed, but I'm always friendly to those I see."

"So these rumours about your misbehaviour are lies?" he asked.

"Of course, sir. I pride myself on my conduct," I assured him firmly. He shook his head slowly and I felt my stomach sicken.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but lying will not be tolerated. Please pack your possessions. Before you leave, drop off your remaining reports," he instructed. _No_, I thought, but I nodded and stood. _It can't be_.

"I'll be back with them in just a moment, sir," I told him composedly as I turned toward the door. _Merlin, I can't lose my job now. What rumours did he hear?_ Once I gathered what belonged to me in my handbag, I took the parchments on my desk and knocked on my boss's door lightly.

"Come in," he invited. "Ah, Miss Granger. Just place them here. I'm sorry to have to do this, Miss Granger, but you've given me no choice."

"Yes, sir," I replied numbly, placing the parchments before turning back around. I paused in the doorway and glanced over my shoulder at him, struggling to restrain the tears in my eyes. "Sir, I just wanted you to know that I've never acted inappropriately in this office. I've always done exactly as expected and proper and whatever rumours you've heard have lost you your most diligent worker," I told him before closing the door and heading quickly toward the exit. By the time I reached the street above, my frustrated tears were falling freely.

"Rumours! I've lost my position over _rumours_!" I exclaimed as I ran, desiring nothing more than to get home and block out the world with my blankets and pillows. Once I reached the door, I fumbled with my keys, unable to see well enough to unlock the door. Snape opened it after a moment. "Thanks, Severus."

"_Crying_, Gryffindor? How weak," he commented as he stepped aside to let me through the doorway. Without a moment's thought, I swung at him and slapped him hard across the face. After a half a second of shock, I ran toward my room, crying harder.

"Merlin, I can't do anything right!" I shouted as I threw myself onto my bed. "Can't keep a job, can't control my temper, can't even stop _crying_ for Merlin's sake!"

"So. You're unemployed. That's the problem," Snape commented drily from the doorway. I looked up to see that the imprint of my hand was still bright red on the side of his face.

"Yes, that's the problem. Sorry I hit you, but leave me alone. Trust me, I'm upset enough without having to deal with your irascible temper," I spat. One of his eyebrows rose as his lips curled up in a sardonic smile.

"Perhaps your own temper is the problem, Gryffindor," he suggested before he abruptly turned and left. I stared at the open doorway in shock before rage suddenly blossomed inside me.

"How dare he!" I exclaimed before burying my face in the pillow again. "_My_ temper? I've been an absolute _saint_ with him and everyone else!"

...


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Hermione, love, don't you think you should wait for replies before you send out the rest of these? It seems a bit excessive," Mum asked as she watched me stuff the last of my latest applications into its envelope.

"Not at all. The more I send out, the greater the likelihood of a prompt reply. Besides, I haven't tried any shops yet. So far, I've only contacted the Ministry," I explained, sealing the letter. She gave me a concerned look I was almost too frazzled to notice. "Don't worry, Mum. Someone will offer me a position. Just wait."

"Hermione, that's almost two hundred applications in two days. You should slow down, dear. You seem a bit mad," she suggested lightly. I shook my head and smiled.

"Not at all. I'm perfectly fine, Mum. I promise," I replied before heading out to post the letters. Once that was done, I returned to the house and was glad to find that Mum and Dad had left for work and Snape was nowhere to be found. I went straight to my room and opened _Gulliver's Travels_, deciding that a bit of Muggle literature might be a good distraction. After a few minutes, my temper grew too great and I threw the book against the wall as hard as I could. "I. Hate. Men!"

"Well, that's a lovely way to wake up," Snape muttered from the other side of the wall.

"I hope so! Somehow, this is _your _fault. I'm certain of it," I huffed in a fury. I heard his door open and, almost instantly, he was standing in my doorway, wearing pyjama trousers. Although he was livid with me, I couldn't help but allow my eyes to follow the lines of his muscles appreciatively. _He's even better than before. Being here is certainly doing him some good physically, if nothing else_.

"I'm curious, Gryffindor. How is this my fault?" he sneered, drawing my attention back to the anger on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't know, but it is. Somehow," I responded, crossing my arms over my chest in anger before I realised he'd just done the same. I put my arms at my sides instead, my hands curled into fists. He spotted the book I had thrown and examined it with a snicker.

"Muggle through and through. No wonder your intelligence is so limited," he commented, dropping the book in my lap.

"How much longer does your potion have?" I demanded, holding the book so tightly my fingers were completely white.

"Two months. Then I'll be free of your _filth_," he spat. I stood up and tried to be intimidating, neglecting to remember the fact that I only came to his shoulder.

"Not forever. You'll know me in _your_ future. And you know what? I _hated_ you for years. After you died, I thought you were misunderstood and forgave your _extensive_ faults, but not now. No matter what Lily's desertion did to you, _nothing_ can excuse you for how awful a human being you always were!" I shouted. He looked stunned and I soon realised why.

"Died?" he repeated. I started chewing on my lip nervously, but managed a half a nod.

"I didn't mean to say," I stated quietly. "You weren't supposed to know. I'm sorry, Severus."

"_Died_?" he repeated. "It's only twenty years in the future. Is this really the middle of my life?"

"Severus, please, calm down," I pleaded, standing up and pushing him into a seated position on my bed. He stared at me blankly, clearly reeling from the fact that he would die without seeing this date again.

"When? When do I die?" he asked.

"I don't think I should tell you. It could cause more damage," I answered, my lip beginning to bleed.

"Tell me when I die!" he shouted, losing his temper completely. He began to shake and I wondered if he would hurt me.

"2nd May 1998. You died at the hands of the Dark Lord," I told him. He didn't seem to be stunned by that fact, but I felt the need to tell him more. "You died to protect Lily Evans's son."

"Lily Evans's son? So it's true. They're expecting," he spat, his face white with anger. "That filthy dog _Potter_. He doesn't deserve her."

"No," I agreed quietly, "but neither did you."

With a look that spoke the thousand words he did not say, he stood and fled to his own room, slamming the door so hard the house shook. _I can't do anything right, clearly. Hopefully, the damage from this will be minimal. Hopefully, but not likely_.

...

"Are you sure you don't want me to talk to my boss? I'm sure he could find you a position," Ginny asked for the thousandth time. I shook my head resolutely.

"No, that's okay, Ginny," I assured her. "I want a position based on my own skill rather than your ability to manipulate others."

"Me? Manipulate anyone?" she asked, pretending to be incredulous. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, Ginny, you," I replied, smiling at her silliness. "After lunch is over, I think I might visit your brothers. They may have some position available. At the very least, I could make their potions for them."

"True. They do hate potion-making," she agreed. "Of course, that's mostly because of a certain professor. How is he, by the way? You haven't said anything about him."

"He's...angrier than before. We got into another fight and I don't think he'll forgive me for this one easily," I informed her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. You're having such a bad time, aren't you? Lost your job, stuck with Snape, no luck in love," she commented, frowning sadly as she placed her hand on my arm. "It'll get better, 'Mione. Just hold on."

"Yeah," I responded bleakly. A glance toward my watch made me manage a half a smile. "I know your boss likes you, but don't you think you should at least _try_ to return to work on time?"

"You're right! Thanks, Hermione! See you," she exclaimed, grabbing her handbag and Apparating away with a pop. I frowned at her empty seat. _She didn't have to remind me. She could've just let it go_. Deciding that moping was pointless, I got up and stretched before heading toward the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. George and Fred, recovered from the explosion that had so nearly killed him, greeted me as soon as I walked in the door.

"Good to see you, Hermione," George greeted.

"What can we help you with today? Love potion, perhaps?" Fred suggested.

"Ginny told us all about your date," George added, nodding in agreement. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks despite myself.

"Actually, I'm here on a more serious matter. Do you need any help about the shop? I've—I've lost my job and no one's offering me a new one," I told them, looking down at my feet as I took the harsh blow to my pride.

"What? Let's go sit for a talk, shall we?" George suggested. I nodded and followed them through the crowded store.

"Verity, keep track of things for us, will you? We'll be back in a moment," Fred called. The magenta-robe-clad woman nodded before we headed up the stairs to their apartments.

"Now, what's this about your job?" George asked.

"Somehow, there were rumours started about me. I don't know what they were, but they were enough to get me fired and now no one will hire me again. I didn't know where else to turn," I told them, still looking down. "I could make your potions or clean the shop or anything, really. You both know what I can do."

"We'll find something for you, Hermione, but why don't you let us try to find out about these rumours first? If anyone can, we can, especially if Ginny's willing to help," George said, frowning at the thought of the rumours.

"Right. We'll see what we can discover. Perhaps this can all be cleared up and you can go back to your job," Fred added.

"In the meantime, why don't you work on making the love potions the shop sells? We'll pay you a fair price," George suggested. I blinked back tears.

"I will, thank you. I really appreciate this, boys," I told them. They both had the sensitivity to look offended at my words.

"It's nothing, Hermione. You're a friend," George assured me.

"And we don't abandon our friends. Not even for the worst of rumours," Fred added, glaring about darkly.

"Now let's get you the potions instructions and ingredients so you can get to work."

...


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Still not talking to me, I take it?" I commented as Snape bushed past me to check on his cauldron, his face still murderous. "Very well. I wasn't very fond of your conversation anyway."

"Bloody Gryffindor," he muttered, otherwise unresponsive to my attempts to begin a conversation.

"Stupid Slytherin," I retorted quietly, going back to my newspaper. He turned toward me.

"The potion will be complete in a month. Rest assured that whenever I meet you in the future, in whatever capacity we were acquainted, I will be as cruel to you as I can possibly conceive to be," he told me. I rolled my eyes.

"You can't be any worse than I remember you," I assured him. He turned back toward his cauldron.

"I hate Gryffindors. Always so irritating, arrogant, and foolish," he muttered.

"Look in the mirror! Surely you don't think your own House is without its faults. The same faults you apply to mine, in truth, though I doubt someone like _you_ could see it," I scoffed. He turned back toward me with one of his mocking smiles.

"Oh, I see it. I have always understood how slight the distinction between our Houses. The difference is purely ambition. You, as evidenced by your life, have none," he said silkily.

"And you died at your master's hand—for doing nothing wrong. You never achieved anything. Ambition? At least I'm _trying_ to do something. You never did," I countered haughtily. His eyes flashed, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he calmly walked toward the kitchen. "Only cowards run from the truth."

"I suggest you stop speaking, Gryffindor. I can only contain my anger so long," he warned from the other room.

"Oh, and what are you going to do? Add one more murder to your list, perhaps?" I asked. "It isn't like there's a crime you never committed. Why not begin with your first murder safely in the future? You can't be arrested for it if you die before it ever occurred."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, Gryffindor?" he sneered. "No reason to live, every reason to die. After all, who would hire you? Who would notice you? Who would _want_ you?"

"No one, clearly! They don't see my worth, but they will one day! One day they'll all know I'm too good for them!" I shouted in reply. He appeared in the doorway, smiling scornfully.

"Careful, Gryffindor. That sounded like ambition _and_ revenge. You wouldn't want anyone to mistake your House," he warned silkily.

"SHUT UP!" I bellowed, reaching for the nearest object I could find. I watched the lamp fly through the air and shatter against the wall next to him. We both stared at the damage for a few seconds before I started to nervously giggle and we both fell into hysterics. "Oh, I've got to learn to control my temper. Sorry about that."

"No need to apologise, Gryffindor. It's in your nature," he answered, smirking at me. I rolled my eyes, but knew that my outburst had relieved some of the tension between us and that we would, hopefully, be able to keep from arguing as much until the month was over. _It's just a month, after all. With what I've done in telling him of his death, I think I owe it to him to treat him as well as I can for the remainder of his stay. Hopefully he doesn't irritate me too much again_.

...

"Well, I found out what the rumour was, Hermione, and I have to say that I'm very, very sorry," Ginny told me as we walked down the street.

"Why would you be sorry, Ginny?" I asked, frowning. "You found out, didn't you?"

"Yes, but it's my fault, in a way. The rumour was that the Chudley Canons lost their match—after doing so well all season—because _you_ refused Ragmar. Evidently, he's been really depressed since your date and now everyone's blaming you for his failure," she explained.

"Chudley Canons...Chudley Canons... Oh, yeah, he _did_ say he was involved in Quidditch! Wait, how is it _my_ fault? He even accidentally admitted on the date that he only agreed to go with me to please you," I protested. She shrugged.

"I don't know where people get their ideas, Hermione, but that's why no one will hire you. You were sacked over something as silly as that," she confirmed. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"That's it! People say love of money is the root of all evil, but clearly it's men!" I huffed.

"Or at least your inability to please them," Snape commented as he passed through the living room. I stood up and threw a pillow at him.

"Nobody asked you, Severus! Why don't you slink back to your room? The _guest_ room, where guests belong!" I roared. He smirked at me, infuriating me further. "Get. Now!"

"Did you really just stomp your foot?" he asked, chuckling amusedly at my childish outburst.

"She does that when she's really angry," Ginny explained, smiling at him openly. "I've only seen her this angry once or twice, though. Last time, she nearly scared the ghoul out of my attic permanently."

"Ginny, no fraternising with the enemy!" I commanded, arms crossed as I heaved with anger.

"Calm down, Gryffindor. No enemies here," Snape chuckled. Before I knew it, I had my wand in my hand. "Oh, really, Gryffindor? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to—to—I'm going for a walk," I exclaimed, turning around and heading for the door as fast as I could. I heard Ginny and Snape laughing together and knew I needed to leave quicker or I would blow a fuse and destroy the house. "For the record, I hope you know you're the biggest traitor that ever lived, Ginny!"

"Nonsense! We both know I'm your best friend."

...


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Personally, I think dittany is overused. It has many benefits, of course, but there are many other options. For scarring, I would use something more biting, a warmer element, such as ginger or pepper powders," I recommended.

"A good theory, Gryffindor. Increased metabolic rate in the area would encourage healing, but that requires that the skin have living tissue nearby. For larger scars, dittany would be best," Snape argued.

"I can see your point. Perhaps a mixture of the two methods for a general scarring help?" I suggested.

"Are the two of you still arguing? Hermione, what about dinner? It was your turn to cook," Dad reminded me as he walked through the front door.

"It's nearly ready and we weren't arguing. We've been discussing the benefits of various supplements for innovative purposes," I informed him before heading back to the kitchen.

"It's good to see that the two of you are getting along," Mum commented to Snape as she joined them in the room.

"How long will you still be with us, Severus?" Dad asked.

"Another week, Mr. Granger. I apologise for taking up so much of your time," Snape murmured in a velvety voice.

"Oh, not at all, Severus. I daresay we'll feel your loss heavily. You've become part of the family, it seems," Mum replied. I couldn't hear his reply as I turned on the water to put a bit more in the soup on the stove. _She's right. He's become such a fixture here we'll have to adjust to his loss_.

"Everyone ready for dinner?" I asked, glancing out the door. They answered positively and Dad came to help me bring the food and plates out to the table.

"Looks good, love. Thanks for cooking," Mum commented as we finished setting it up.

"It was nothing, Mum. How was work?" I asked, thinking of the cauldron I'd been making a love potion in in the living room.

"Wonderful day today. What about you, sweetie?" Mum asked, turning toward Snape. Though I knew he was startled at being called by such a pet name, I couldn't see it in his easy smile.

"It was a useful day. Hermione watched my potion while I went to the library and, when I returned, we discussed potions and medical methods used commonly today," he answered. _He's trying to send their attention back to me, but it won't work. They like him and they know he's going to leave soon_.

"I see," Mum murmured. "Our dear 'Mione hasn't tried to kill you today, has she?"

"No, she kept her temper today," Snape replied with a quick smirk.

"Yes, well, I can do that on occasion," I retorted sarcastically. Mum and Dad chuckled. "What about your day, Dad? You haven't told us yet."

"Oh, it was a perfectly normal day. Nothing unusual," he replied lightly. "Now, why don't you confuse us with your discussion from earlier? You haven't been sharing much new information with us lately, Hermione."

"Sorry, Dad. I only thought to spare you," I answered with a roll of my eyes. Mum likewise insisted that we share and we were soon returned to our previous discussions.

...

"It's ready, isn't it?" I asked, peering over his shoulder into the cauldron. He nodded as he poured some into a vial.

"Yes, the potion is ready," he answered, turning around to hold the glass vial up to the light. "It looks like I suspected it would. Theoretically, it should be correct and it should work."

"Theoretically. Let's hope for the best, shall we? Are you going to take it now?" I asked, my thoughts beginning to run away with me. _I'll miss our conversation. For the first time, I had someone to talk to that was _actually_ intelligent. What a pity that I'll lose that, but he must return_. I noticed that he was hesitating. "What's wrong?"

"Tell your parents I couldn't delay taking this, will you? I would rather avoid their good-byes, but I would not wish to harm them," he requested.

"All right for Muggles, are they?" I asked with a half a smile.

"Rather better than most," he agreed before lifting the vial. "To the future."

"To the future," I echoed, keeping my expression as neutral as I could as the vial touched his lips and he swallowed the potion. For a moment, we merely look at one another, waiting for it to take its effect, but then his eyes closed in an entirely unhealthy way and he slipped to the side. With a quick movement I never would've been consciously capable of repeating, I broke his fall, catching him in my arms.

"Oh, Merlin, what do I do?" I muttered once I recovered from my shock. With an effort, I managed to pull his body toward the couch and stretched him out on it before pulling the chair close to it to watch him. _It failed. Why do I feel ever-so-slightly relieved that the potion failed? It was to be the culmination of all our hard work, the end we both desired, but—despite my worry that he is ill and may not rise from this state—I'm glad that he isn't gone. What sort of monster have I become, to risk humanity's fate just so I can have someone to talk to?_

"Hermione! My God, what happened?" Mum cried as she found us in the living room.

"The potion didn't work. Instead of disappearing, he collapsed," I explained.

"Shouldn't you call an ambulance or whatever it is you wizards have?" Dad asked, his hand on Mum's shoulder to steady her. _Good. He'll be there to get her if she collapses as well_.

"I can't. He's too distinctive to risk it," I replied with a shake of my head.

"What about Ginny and Harry? They already know he's here," Mum suggested, leaning into Dad for strength.

"Good idea! I'll send an owl," I agreed, running upstairs. As soon as the owl was safely gone, I ran back downstairs with a half-bidden prayer for his safety. _Please, let them come quickly. Please, let him recover. Please_.

"He's breathing, at least," Dad commented as he rose from my chair so I could resume it. "Do you know what happened?"

"No, not at all. As soon as he drank the potion, he collapsed," I explained. I looked over him to see that he wasn't changed from when I'd left. "_Rennervate_. No, nothing."

"Merlin, Hermione, what's happened?" Ginny asked as she Apparated into the living room with a small pop. "Your note was so vague and—oh, Merlin, he's not dead, is he?"

"No, he's alive, but I can't revive him. I don't know what happened," I explained.

"This is terrible! After all that trouble, he's collapsed instead of gone back. What if he doesn't wake up? What happens then?" Ginny asked. I shrugged.

"Who can say? The damage to time would be drastic. It could start to unravel and, based on our proximity to the event, it would likely start with us," I warned, watching closely as Snape's chest rose and fell infinitesimally with his light breathing.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as he appeared with a pop. Ginny explained quickly. "Merlin! What should we do, Hermione?"

"I'm not sure. I tried to revive him, but I was unsuccessful. I don't know what else to do," I told him.

"What if we all tried to revive him at once? Surely three spells would wake him, if any can," Ginny suggested. I thought about it for a moment before agreeing.

"It might make him a bit skittish if it's successful, but we've got to try. On the count of three: one, two, three. _Rennervate_," I instructed, listening to their spells blend with my own. Snape moved slightly and let out a moan of pain.

"It worked!" Ginny exclaimed in a hushed voice.

"Not yet. Once more. He's not quite back," I instructed. We repeated the spell and he groaned loudly before opening his eyes.

"_Gryffindor?_ I thought I was returned to my own time," he exclaimed incredulously, sitting up quickly to look around him. "Am I dreaming?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Severus. The potion failed. You merely lost consciousness and, as you seem to have thought you were in your time, I must assume that it was merely a stronger version of the potion Ginny's mother suggested," I told him. He frowned darkly.

"If the potion failed, what do we try now?" Harry asked before Snape could say anything uncouth in front of my parents. Mum, suddenly freed from her shocked stillness, ran forward and engulfed Snape in her arms.

"You're all right, you dear boy! I was so worried. Don't frighten me like that again, understood?" she asked, waiting for his nod before she returned to Dad's side. "Now, I'm going to assume that you four need to plan your next course of action. As we'd be in the way, my beloved Mr. Granger and I will go out for the evening."

"Thanks, Mum. Bye, Dad," I said as they headed toward the door. Once it closed behind them, I turned back toward the others. "Well, the potion was ineffective. Could there have been an error in it, Severus?"

"No, I was very careful. It _did_ take me back to the right time, but in mind only," he explained. "I merely relived the day before I was transported here."

"But that wasn't the goal, so the potion isn't what we need," Ginny murmured, sitting beside Snape on the couch.

"What if the potion were altered—strengthened somehow?" Harry suggested. Snape and I both shook our heads.

"No, we designed the potion very carefully. If a potion would work, this one would have," I argued.

"What if we designed a spell? If the Ministry could design time spells to make time-turners, what would prevent us from designing one?" Snape asked. I frowned in thought.

"It would be advanced magic—perhaps _very_ advanced magic—but I don't see that we have a choice. Besides, we're known for learning things deemed too advanced for us, aren't we?" I replied, thinking of all the times we'd surprised our professors with our abilities.

"How do we begin?" Ginny asked before glancing at her watch. "Oh, I have to get back to work. I'm so sorry, but my boss won't be happy if I'm late."

"That's fine, Ginny. I'll send you an owl later with what we know," I replied.

"Sorry, Hermione, but I should leave as well," Harry apologised.

"I understand," I assured them. With two pops, they Disapparated, leaving me alone with Snape. I turned toward him. "Now, then, time spells. I don't know very much about them. Do you?"

"No, I don't. We'll need to begin researching immediately," he answered.

"Agreed. Let's become experts on time."

...


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Thanks for the potions, Hermione," George said as he handed me the small bag of coins he owed me for them.

"Thanks for the opportunity to work," I replied with a nod, smiling as Fed joined his brother.

"Any luck yet, Hermione? The rumours seem to be dying down," he asked.

"No, no luck yet," I told them with a shake of my head. "It seems I'm still being blamed for the Canons's loss."

"Pity, that, but not your fault," George commented.

"Yes, old Ragmar only won games by luck beforehand, at any rate," Fred added.

"Speaking of _rates_, would you two know anything about time spells?" I asked, knowing that, if any of my acquaintance knew anything about them, it would be the twins.

"Time spells? Not much, do we, George?" Fred answered, turning toward his brother. George frowned in thought. "Oh, you're right! We did have that clever little bit in fifth year, didn't we? Do you remember how we did it?"

"Forgive Fred for not explaining anything, but we _did_ manage to go five minutes into the past once by accident," George explained. "What do you need the spell for?"

"Hypothetically, I would like to know how to send someone to his or her correct time in the case of accidental time travel," I answered. Fred got a glint in his eyes that told me to tread carefully. _Especially since he's become so reckless since the explosion. It calmed George, turned him a bit more serious, but it only increased Fred's love of trouble_.

"Hypothetically," Fred repeated. "This has to do with Professor Sarcastic, doesn't it?"

"How did you—?"

"Ginny and Harry were having a row. I told Fred not to listen, but, well, he didn't listen," George explained. Fred rolled his eyes.

"George thinks we should mind our own business, but I say that isn't any fun," he informed me.

"Anyway, we'll work on finding out what we did last time, if you like," George promised.

"Thank you. Send a note when you can?" I asked. They nodded before an explosion further in the store made Fred go to see what happened. "Are you all right, George?"

"I'm well enough, Hermione," he replied with a sad smile. I gave him a quick hug.

"I know it was hard to almost lose him and harder still to grow up so suddenly only to find that he didn't respond the same way. If you ever need anything, George, even if it's only to talk, I'll always be there," I promised him. His smile brightened a bit.

"I know that, Hermione. You're a good girl," George commented, patting my arm in a brotherly way. "Don't worry too much about everything right now. We'll help you send Snape home, this nonsense with your job will clear up, and you'll find your way to happiness soon enough. Someone will notice your worth."

"Thanks, George. I'd best go to Flourish and Blott's and then return home," I replied, smiling at him before heading for the door. _George seems to be the only one with hope for me. Pity I don't believe him_, I thought with a self-mocking chuckle as I gathered what books seemed relevant and purchased them. I frowned at my handbag as I headed home. _I'll have to stop spending money so freely. That was most of this week's wages_.

"It's good that you brought more books. I haven't found anything useful," Snape greeted as I entered the living room.

"I didn't know if you would. Would you like to look through these while I start dinner?" I asked, setting the books on the edge of the couch.

"Yes," he answered, picking one up. I nodded and headed into the kitchen, setting my handbag on the counter to begin cooking. After a moment, I heard the door open and glanced over my shoulder to see Snape, a book held open in his hands. "What do you think of this?"

"Read it aloud, would you? I'm busy with cooking," I requested. He read the text as requested. "Based on what the text says, it seems the spells themselves aren't very hard. It's just difficult to correctly apply them."

"Exactly. Time is measured differently magically than we perceive it," he explained.

"So we need to learn how that is in order to properly apply the spell. Perhaps if we had a time-turner to examine..." I murmured as I worked.

"But that's impossible. We do, however, have your memories of one," he pointed out. I paused while stirring the stew I had been fixing.

"I didn't pay much attention to it and, after all this time, my memories of it are fading. I don't know how much use I can be," I replied.

"The memories are in your brain. We merely have to find them," he said quietly. I turned around, meeting his calculating expression with surprise.

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" I asked.

"If you are incapable of finding the memories yourself, yes," he replied. "I know it would be unpleasant and would require that you have an unprecedented amount of trust in me, but it would be very useful. Surely you see that."

"I...It isn't that I don't, but, well, surely you understand, Severus. Even if I were to trust you so much, the risk of your discovery of more of your future is too great for it to be permitted," I told him.

"It's a last resort. I know that," he assured me, "but I thought it best to mention as a possibility. We both know there aren't many options available to us."

"I understand. Let's do our best to avoid it, shall we? Surely someone has documented how time flows magically. It seems like it would be so important," I returned. "Besides, I may have enough memory of the time-turners to supplement whatever we find in the books. Surely we can avoid Legilimency."

...

"Severus, give me that book, would you? I can't walk away from this potion just yet, but I would like to read," I requested.

"_Atlas Shrugged_? Isn't that a rather heavy read for potion-making?" he asked.

"That's the point, actually. I'm not fond of the book, but I want to read it, so I've been reading it while I'm otherwise distracted," I explained.

"I understand. I tried to read it once, but failed miserably. Her theory of Objectivism, however, is not the worst of modern philosophy," he commented.

"Agreed. It isn't like the Muggle world here, as the government has such an important role in the economy and daily life, but it isn't entirely incompatible with the wizarding Ministry. _Laissez-faire_ capitalism isn't _very_ far from the actual laws in place, as a sort of voluntary system of worker and company guidelines seems to exist. Of course, I would prefer a greater deal of empathy and cooperation than her idea of the supremacy of self-happiness allows, but it isn't the worst of recent ideologies," I returned.

"I would've expected a Gryffindor to want laws to ensure no organisation could take unfair advantage of another," he murmured in a tone of quiet surprise.

"It is one system, of course, but creating such laws would necessarily leave loopholes while creating resentment for the control instituted by them. Together, these could lead to more problems than they would solve," I informed him.

"Curious. Do you find that you disagree with the current Muggle system, then?" he asked, leaning against the wall beside my cauldron.

"No, not exactly. It seems to work well for them and I wouldn't wish to change that. For wizards, however, I think a more relaxed system is ideal. Wizards tend to be nosy, interfering people and aren't as likely to allow anyone to enslave another," I answered. He chuckled.

"You can be rather biting for a Gryffindor," he commented.

"Do you disagree with my sentiments, then?" I asked, my voice a note higher than usual with irritation.

"Not at all. I find your opinion on the subject to be entirely reasonable and valid. However, I do find it odd that a Muggle-born witch—a Gryffindor—would prefer such an utter lack of protection for those who are weaker. Traditionally, the Ravenclaws and Slytherins would take your position and Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs would take that of increased legal interference," he replied.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to stereotype, Severus," I pointed out. He smiled, an easy, charming smile that told me that the hatred between us was waning.

"Perhaps you're right, Gryffindor."

...


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Hermione, love, have you really done all this for me?" Mum asked as I covered the table in dishes and delicacies.

"Of course, Mum. It's your birthday, after all," I replied lightly as I set down a homemade plum jelly.

"You didn't have to do all that, dear," she answered, her voice flattered and happy. I smiled. "Thank you, love."

"It was nothing, Mum. I made your favourite jelly and, Dad, I whipped up a trifle as well. I thought you may want your favourites just as much as Mum and your birthday's so far away," I informed them.

"Well, aren't you sweet, 'Mione?" Dad commented as he took his seat, to the right of Snape.

"What would you like, Mum? You may have your fill first," I asked, smiling at her.

"Oh, just a bit of that jelly for now, dear. Isn't it fun to have desserts for dinner now and then?" she answered, clearly happy with the evening. I gave it to her before turning toward Snape, as he sat to her left.

"What about you, Severus?" I asked.

"Nothing, thank you," he demurred.

"Oh, come, Severus, you must accept something. For my birthday," Mum pleaded cheerfully, leaving him no option. With a motion so quick I wondered if magic was involved, he picked up a Chorley cake and placed it on his dish. "There, that's better. What about you, my love?"

"Trifle, of course, if Hermione wishes to share it," he replied happily. I served him before taking my seat and took a ginger biscuit for myself. "How was your birthday, my sweet?"

"Oh, lovely, dear. Simply lovely," Mum replied before telling us all about her day. Once we had all consumed more sweets than were good for us, I put up what food was left and cleaned the dishes. Mum and Dad were listening to Snape tell a story when I returned. I leaned in the doorway for a moment to listen, chuckling with them as he finished the story. "Well, I hate to say, but I'm rather tired. Coming, love?"

"Yes, dear. Don't stay up too late, you two," Dad warned with a chuckle as he stood with Mum.

"We won't. Good night," I replied, rolling my eyes as they walked up the stairs. "Find anything useful in the books today?"

"There was a passage. Let me find it," he murmured, going through the books surrounding his chair before finding the right one. "It reads: _Little is known of the actual flow of time. Even the perception of wizards and witches varies greatly depending on many factors, including, but not limited to: contemporary events, the emotional state of the witch or wizard, the activities completed during the assessed period, and the number of memories sparked by that exact moment. If, however, these factors could be controlled for, it would be possible to assess the flow of time in magical terms rather than human terms_."

"How would we control for so many factors? That sounds impossible!" I exclaimed. He held up a hand to stop me.

"_It is conceivable that this could be completed under two circumstances, according to the researchers of this topic. These two methods are, however, undesirable, as one is directly against wizarding law and the other is highly frowned upon. The researchers believe that the two best options to solve this problem are the Imperious curse and Legilimency_," he read in his steady, murmuring voice.

"Well! Is that all you've found? Perhaps there's something else in another book," I suggested.

"Hopefully," he agreed. I searched his face, but found no sign of falsehood. _Perhaps he isn't determined to search my thoughts after all. He may truly only wish to be home as easily as possible_.

...

_Dear Miss Hermione Granger:_

_I regret to inform you that you have not been granted the position in question. It was a very difficult choice and our applicants were all extremely qualified._

_Thank you for your application,_

_Mr. John Wentworth_

"Another one!" I exclaimed in frustration as I crumpled the paper and threw it into the fire. Snape looked up from his book across the room and raised one eyebrow. "Rejected again. Like always. Oh, well, I'd best get ready for that interview. Perhaps it will work out better."

"Yes. Lucky three hundred and ninety-four," he murmured. I shot him a glare before heading upstairs. I changed into my usual business attire: light grey button down—completely buttoned, a shapeless dark grey jumper, black trousers, and a black suit jacket. Once I made it back downstairs, I'd convinced myself to be optimistic. "Where to today?"

"The Department of Mysteries. Surely they understand how silly rumours can be," I replied cheerily. With a wave, I Apparated to the visitor's entrance of the Ministry and stepped inside. I headed directly to the desired office and waited patiently for the interviewer to call me in.

"Miss Granger, Mrs. Gray will see you now," the assistant, a man that looked hardly three years older than me, informed me.

"Thank you," I replied, heading into the office. Mrs. Gray was, indeed, grey. She was a rather old woman with a kind, warm sort of face, which surprised me greatly upon considering that such a grandmotherly woman was head of one of the most secretive and dangerous sections of the government. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Granger. I'm Mrs. Gray. Please take a seat," she invited. As soon as I was seated, we lapsed into an easy, conversational sort of interview. It lasted for nearly an hour before she sat back in her seat and gave me a small smile. "I'm sorry, dear, but I don't think we'll need your service after all."

"May I ask why?" I asked cautiously, swallowing hard.

"It would seem that the already present members would be sufficient if labour were to be more effectively divided," she replied lightly. "Sorry, dear, but I've just had a note."

"That note was about dinner with your husband. Forgive me, Mrs. Gray, but I read it when you laid it on the desk. Before you yell at me or throw me out, would you please tell me the real reason I'm not to be given a position? I have more NEWTs than most other applicants, I'm sure, and I am generally considered both agreeable and insightful," I asked, frowning at her. She smiled in a more grandmotherly way.

"Dear, you may _be_ agreeable, but you seem to be unnaturally modest and—dare I say it?—_priggish_," she answered.

"Priggish? I may be a bit modest, but I'm most certainly not _priggish_. That requires a certain level of narrow-mindedness that I can assure you I do not have," I gasped.

"Miss Granger, you have the air of a perfect little governess. Say what you will, but I doubt you will be hired anywhere with such an attitude and corresponding dress," she informed me. "I have another interview, dear, so this is good-bye. Have a good day."

"Thank you. A good day to you as well," I replied, shocked as I stood and left the Ministry. I wandered London aimlessly while I thought. _Priggish? Even Severus called me a prude when he first saw me. Do I really come off as incurable strait-laced? Is that truly a problem?_ Deciding I needed answers, I headed to the usual café to meet Ginny for our scheduled lunch. _She'll be able to tell me. Ginny's so much better at understanding such things_.

"Oh, no luck again, 'Mione?" she greeted, frowning at my petulant expression. I shook my head.

"Ginny, am I too controlled? Too modest?" I asked, looking away from her. She hesitated and from that I had my answer. "So it's true. I can't find work because I'm too much of a prude. Mrs. Gray today called me a perfect little governess. What do I do?"

"Well, I would love to say you didn't need to change, but this level of rule-following and stuffiness isn't normal even for you. You've been retreating into this perfect puritanical state since the war ended. Before, you were beginning to enjoy breaking the occasional rule and, if I'm not mistaken, turn the heads of the men we met," Ginny sighed. "Do you have any idea why you underwent such a change?"

"I needed an identity. For so long, I've been Miss Granger, the insufferable know-it-all who helped Harry Potter to win the Second Wizarding War. Once the war was won, there was nothing left but the know-it-all. I determined through active perusal of fictional novels and Muggle media that proper know-it-alls have a variable degree of antisocial personality disorder and dress in an indifferent, androgynous matter. I adopted such customs and, it seems, took them to the extreme," I explained. She rolled her eyes.

"Hermione, you shouldn't plan who you are. You should just be you. Who cares what others think?" she stressed. "Now, let's rectify the situation, shall we?"

"How are we to do that?" I asked as she penned a quick note and waved her wand over it so it disappeared.

"There, now I have the evening off. Let's go shopping."

...


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Ginny, do I _really_ have to try this on?" I asked as I frowned at my image in the mirror.

"Yes, Hermione. You've been in there long enough, I think. Come, come, let's see the dress," she answered impatiently. I gave one more unhappy glance at the image of myself wearing the red dress she'd given me and opened the door. "Surprise, surprise! There _is_ a woman hidden under all that clothing!"

"A freezing one," I muttered with a shiver. She rolled her eyes.

"It fits you well and it's pretty. You'll get used to wearing a little less soon enough," she assured me as she handed me another stack of clothing. "Now, you stay here and try these on. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay," I sighed, trying to keep myself from frowning too childishly. She returned about the time I was finished trying on the clothing. "Are we done now?"

"Yes, I believe we are. Change back into that cute red number. I've already paid for it," she instructed. With a resigned sigh, I closed the door and changed into the desired dress. She flicked her wand with a muttered incantation and my old clothes went up in flames.

"Ginny! That was my favourite sweater!" I protested. She gave me an impish smile.

"And now you'll have a _new_ favourite sweater," she retorted.

"Oh, no. What have you done?" I asked, knowing there was more happening than the gift of a new red dress. She took my arm and Apparated me directly to my house.

"Your old clothes are gone. I knew you needed a push, so I left you no choice with your wardrobe. Enjoy!" she informed me, opening my closet to show me the new set of clothing.

"You mean to say all my old clothes are gone?" I gasped incredulously. She nodded once, waved, and Disapparated with a pop. I frantically searched my room. "Really, Ginny? Even my nightdresses have been replaced!"

"Everything all right?" Snape asked from downstairs. Before realising I'd decided to leave my room, I found myself on the stairs.

"Ginny replaced all my clothing!" I exclaimed as I walked into the living room. He looked shocked for a moment, his eyes roaming over me in an interested way while I blushed brightly. "She took my pyjamas and everything. I feel so..._immodest_."

"Scandalous, that dress," he chuckled in reply. I tugged the skirt to try to make it fall more than an inch below my knee, but found that it was hopeless. _Knee-length, three-quarter sleeves, collar lower than my throat. How am I to be comfortable in something so unlike my usual clothing?_ I sank onto the couch with a martyred expression, shooting Snape a glare when he chuckled again.

"It isn't funny, Severus," I informed him.

"Of course not, Gryffindor."

...

"Afternoon, Hermione," George greeted with a smile.

"Ginny did a good job," Fred commented with an approving nod as he joined his brother. George gave him a look while I blushed.

"Anyway, I brought by another batch of potions. Ginny seems to think I'll find a job now that I've had a makeover, so I don't know how much longer I'll be making them for you," I informed them.

"Pity, that. Love potions are so much stronger when made by a lonely girl's hand," Fred muttered with a bright smile. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, a lonely boy's hand will have to do soon enough, Fred," I retorted. He laughed loudly.

"Here's your pay, Hermione. Let me know if you require more for putting up with this one," George said as he handed me a pouch of coins, gesturing toward his brother.

"Oh, I'm used to him by now, George. I should return home before Severus begins to worry," I replied, frowning at the clock behind them.

"_Severus_ now, is it? Falling for the Professor, Hermione?" Fred asked suggestively. I rolled my eyes.

"He happens to be a rather decent individual, but we're only friends and that, of course, is the most we could ever possibly be. It shouldn't be long until he returns to his own time. We've almost figured it out," I informed him. His eyes were still twinkling with mischief, so I rolled my eyes again and turned to George. "You may want to have his brain checked at St. Mungo's. See you later, George."

"Later," George echoed. As soon as I lost sight of them, I heard Fred guffawing and smiled to myself. _Silly as always. Oh, well. The world would perhaps be a less pleasant place if he were to grow up completely_. I Apparated to my neighbourhood, desiring to walk home to enjoy the pleasant evening. By the time I arrived, I realised I was later than I had anticipated and my parents would already be there. I ran the rest of the way in the hopes that I wasn't running too late.

"Busy day, 'Mione?" Dad greeted cheerfully as I walked in the door.

"No, I went for a long walk. Has dinner been started?" I asked, trying not to worry that I hadn't started it even though it was my turn.

"We were just determining whether or not it would be wise to go to a restaurant. You could use a bit of rest," Mum replied, smiling at me as she stood from her chair.

"Oh. Are we going, then?" I asked. Mum shrugged and Dad nodded. We were nearly at the door before they frowned simultaneously.

"Severus, aren't you joining us?" Mum asked.

"It would not be wise for me to join you. The chance of someone who knew me from my future meeting me is greater at a restaurant at dinnertime than at the library during the day," he answered politely. Mum rolled her eyes and took his arm, pulling him off the couch.

"Nonsense. We'll be at a Muggle restaurant," she protested. He shot me a pleading look, but I pretended not to see it, knowing this was more a protest against having money spent on him than anything else. _This is what you get for having no sympathy for me in my Ginny predicament. It's your turn to suffer now_.

...


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Do you think we should test it now? Perhaps a five minute test to see if we know what to do?" I asked, frowning at the parchment of notes I was rereading. "This spell should work, provided time flows as that last book said and we understood it properly."

"I don't see how we can learn more without attempting to cast the spell," Snape answered with a shrug. I nodded.

"Let's try it, then, shall we?" I suggested. We both stood.

"I'll try to jump five minutes into the future. I read yesterday that it's easier to move forward than backward," he told me.

"That sounds reasonable. Perhaps you ought to lie down to cast the spell, just in case it doesn't go well and you're injured afterwards," I suggested, lightly pushing him toward the couch. At the contact of my hands with the robes on his shoulders, my mind returned to the sight of him shirtless in the hallway and I blinked it away. _You mustn't be attracted. He won't be here much longer_. He laid down and offered me a smile as he removed his wand from his robe pocket.

"Wish me luck, Gryffindor," he murmured. I sat down and nodded, watching closely as he muttered the correct incantation, waving his wand in the proper design. As soon as his words stopped, a cloud of smoke came from the end of his wand, choking me as it blinded me. Once it cleared, I saw that he was still lying on the couch, ashen and unconscious.

"Oh, dear Merlin," I fretted before checking him for signs of life. His breathing and heart rate were both slow and faint, but steady._ I need to learn more medicinal spells_, I thought as I ran up to my room to get a Pepper-Up potion and a healing potion. I held my watch in front of him, watching both to time how long he stayed unconscious from the moment the spell had been cast. After exactly five minutes, his eyes opened. "Take these, please, before you talk."

"What happened?" he asked after drinking the potions I gave him.

"You were unconscious for five minutes, no more," I told him, "which suggests that the spell was incorrect, but that the perception of time was accurate."

"Indeed," he muttered, closing his eyes again. I grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him into a sitting position.

"Open your eyes. I can't ensure you're okay if you go back to sleep," I instructed. He leaned against the back of the couch with a slight nod. I shook him by the shoulders until he opened his eyes again. "Severus, stay awake!"

"Why?" he asked groggily.

"_Accio_ Pepper-Up potion," I muttered. Once it arrived, I forced it down his throat as well. After a moment, he opened his eyes more clearly and I let go of his shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"The spell didn't work as it should have. You were unconscious for five minutes instead of being transported five minutes into the future," I explained, overlooking it.

"I see. We understand time, but the spell was wrong," he murmured.

"Yes, that's what I thought. I mentioned that a few moments ago, but you weren't quite lucid, so I'll forgive you for not listening," I told him lightly. He rolled his eyes.

"Gryffindors," he muttered. I shook my head and smiled, relieved that he was okay.

"Slytherins," I returned. "Now, tell me how you feel. I want to document everything."

"I feel weak and my muscles are sore, almost as though I've been exercising heavily. My back seems to be especially painful," he answered with a careless shrug that caused him to wince. I summoned a pain relieving potion and handed the vial to him, smiling in response to his grateful look. "Thanks, Gryffindor."

"Let's not make a habit of this, shall we? I was worried," I admitted, watching him try to massage some of the pain out of his shoulder. With a resigned sigh, I stood and went to the back of the couch. "Let me help. I've been giving Mum and Dad massages for years."

"That isn't necessa—_oh_. By all means, continue. You're exceptionally good at this," he commented as I worked through the knots in his shoulders.

"Yes, well, I _am_ a know-it-all. The terms doesn't only apply to knowledge gleaned from books," I retorted, sarcasm dripping in my voice. He chuckled, but didn't otherwise reply and I found myself smiling in response. Of course, recognition of the facts made me abruptly step back. "I should go make lunch. You likely need nourishment after your episode."

"I will assist. If I remain here, I will likely fall asleep and that may not be wise, given the circumstances," he reasoned with a nod. I went toward the kitchen, biting my lip as I tried not to think about how keenly I felt his presence as he followed me. With an effort, I managed to focus my thoughts on cooking, ignoring the tall form watching me from where he leaned against the counter. _Merlin, Hermione, you know better. You _can't_ be attracted to him and you _know_ he isn't attracted to you. He's a Death Eater—or will be soon enough—for Heaven's sake_. I took two plates of food into the dining room and set them down with a little more force than necessary as I heard Snape getting the silverware.

"Thanks," I said as evenly as I could.

"Anytime, Gryffindor," he replied lightly as he took his seat. I rolled my eyes. "What? Just because you're good at _something_ doesn't mean you're anything more than a Gryffindor."

"You're right. Gryffindors are, after all, the best," I retorted with a cheerful nod.

"_Right_."

...

"Dad, what movie is this?" I asked, glancing at the couch to where he sat, Mum snuggled into his side.

"_Escape from Sobibor_, love. A bit heavy of a film for such a quiet afternoon, perhaps, but it's so important to remember the past," he answered. I nodded and hugged the pillow from the chair I was in closer to my chest, feeling my heart wrench as I saw that the woman on the screen who had been so protective of her luggage had a baby hidden inside. _No, I can't watch. It won't live. She won't live. None of them will live_.

"Merlin, no!" I screamed at the television as I watched her try to protect her baby. I closed my eyes and listened as two shots rang out.

"Hermione, it's over now," Mum whispered gently. I felt her touch my arm comfortingly, but closed my eyes tighter, shaking my head. After another moment of listening to the film, I stood, shook myself to apply a proud, unaffected demeanour, and stormed up the stairs. Once there, I threw myself onto my bed and summoned a book from across the room. I opened it without looking to see what it was and began reading as quickly as I could to drown out the sound of the baby crying. _It's the war stress again. Merlin, but I can still feel the dagger in my arm, the Cruciatus curses that ripped through me like fire. Will it never end?_

"Gryffindor, you forgot your book," Snape said drily from the doorway. I looked up to find him staring at me. I followed his gaze to my arm and quickly covered the ugly scar, blushing brightly.

"Thank you for returning my book. I'm grateful," I answered mechanically, looking at a spot across the room as my hair hid my face from view. Snape was sitting on my bed beside me in an instant, removing my hand from the scar.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice harsher than it had been in many days.

"A scar, nothing more. Don't worry about it," I replied, swallowing hard as my eyes started to cloud and my ears started to fill with the remembrance of my shrill screams. I shook my head to try to clear my thoughts, counting the seconds to time my breathing appropriately.

"Who did this?" he asked, tracing the 'M' on my arm lightly. I snatched my arm away and hid it against my stomach, angry as I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

"Who? _Death-Eaters_, that's who. The Dark Lord. Death Eaters. The Order, Dumbledore, Harry Potter. Bellatrix Lestrange, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy. Everyone and no one," I spat, my tears spilling over violently. _I haven't dealt with any of this_, I realised. _I've buried it and now it's coming back. Why, oh why, did they have to be watching _Escape from Sobibor_?_

"The Death-Eaters?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, your precious little Death-Eater friends. What did you expect, Severus? I'm a Mudblood—Don't you dare flinch at the word. Don't you want to be one of them, Severus? Better yet, are you already? Show me your arm, Severus Snape, and let's see," I hissed. Giving me a dark look, he pushed back his sleeve over his left arm to reveal the red Mark, bright against his pale skin. I laughed humourlessly. "You see? You're one of them. It's your fault as well. Yours and mine and everyone else's."

"If I had a hand in this in my future, I won't go back," he informed me, his voice soft and deadly serious. I inhaled sharply in shock and his black eyes looked up, burning with an emotion I couldn't quite label, but knew to be dark and remembered seeing once in Sirius Black's half-mad eyes. "I won't have a part in this."

"You have no choice, Severus. There never was a choice, was there? You had no choice but to join them, I had no choice but to be tortured, and we have no choice but to return you to your time. What's the point of a free will if there are no choices?" I asked, pulling my knees to my chest to bury my face in my arms on them. "No, I know the answer. The point is that we can choose how to deal with what happens. This, for instance, isn't the proper way to deal with my problems. I should've sought help, talked about it, worked through it after it all happened, but instead I focused on anything but the pain in my arm and, once that was gone, the scar it left behind. I haven't dealt with it at all."

"I think, perhaps, that your emotions are like the injury on your arm. If you were to touch them, at first, it would cause excruciating pain and possibly poison your system with some normally-harmless, everyday toxin. You couldn't deal with the trauma of the problem until it was diminished, a faint, pink scar against your mind. It will still feel uncomfortable to the touch—it isn't the normal sensation you would expect from an unharmed self—but it can be managed and, through necessity and a desire for completely healing, dealt with," he suggested. I looked at him in shock.

"That was..._deep_," I commented quietly.

"Don't act so surprised, Gryffindor."

...


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Hermione, I have the best news!" Ginny announced as she sat down at the table, smiling so brightly I knew something was up.

"What? You may as well tell me before you explode," I asked, smiling and rolling my eyes.

"My boss just fled the country, but he chose me as his replacement before he vanished!" she told me. I frowned in thought.

"Weren't you _dating_ him? Shouldn't you be upset at the sudden disappearance?" I asked. She shook her head with a look that implied I simply didn't understand such matters.

"We got along and having access to his wallet was nice, but I didn't _love_ him, Hermione. Only fools fall in love. Besides, Blaise Zabini may be a rather nice specimen, perfectly agreeable and fun to know, but _now I'm the boss_. His loss is nothing compared to such a gain," she informed me carelessly.

"_Blaise Zabini_? The Slytherin?" I gasped. She tossed her head back in laughter, drawing the eye of more than one nearby.

"Yes, Hermione, the Slytherin. I thought you, of all people, would be above such petty identifications," she replied.

"That wasn't what I meant, Ginny, and you know it. He was friends with Draco and we both know he would've been a Death Eater by the time the war ended had he been a year older," I protested. She rolled her eyes.

"You're stereotyping, Hermione, no matter what you say to the contrary. We don't _know_ that he would've joined the Death-Eaters and he was more than kind to me, regardless of my blood-traitor opinions," she argued quietly, smiling with such a self-satisfied air that I wondered if she'd cared about Zabini at all. "Besides, _I_'m not the one becoming friends with Professor Snape. _More_ than friends, I suspect, by now."

"As usual, Ginerva, your suspicions are as incorrect as Goyle's History of Magic homework."

...

"Well, I have some news, everyone," I announced quietly, getting the attention of my parents and Snape instantly. "Three days from now, I will no longer be living here. I have a new job."

"That's wonderful, dear! Where?" asked Mum.

"How did you get it?" Dad added.

"George offered it to me. He and Fred bought Zonko's old place after the war, but they're only just getting it ready and George said he needed someone to run the place. Until I choose to retire or find a position more in keeping with my skills, I get to be the manager of the store," I informed them, smiling excitedly. "I've already purchased a cheery little cottage in Hogsmeade with an advance he gave me."

"That's lovely, dear. We'll need to send that darling boy something in return for all the kindness he's shown you," Mum muttered in thought. Before I could protest, her expression brightened and she disappeared into the kitchen. Dad rolled his eyes.

"You know your mum, Hermione. Anyway, I'm glad to hear you've found a position. A joke shop may not be your exact calling, but it will certainly do until you find better," Dad commented. "When will you begin moving in to your house? It would be good if we could have a little housewarming celebration for you."

"I plan to move most things tomorrow. I've already purchased new furniture and installed it, so I only need to move my possessions," I informed him.

"What will this mean for me?" Snape asked quietly. I looked over at him with a slight frown.

"Well, it would be best, of course, if you were to stay in Muggle areas, but I've been working on a glamour that would allow you to move freely among the wizarding community, so you could stay with me. I have a guest bedroom and I'd hate to impose on Mum and Dad longer than necessary," I told him, making up the plan on the spot. _Well, I _am_ good with glamours, so perhaps it will work_.

"If not, you're more than welcome to stay with us, Severus. We've enjoyed your presence in our home very much," Dad assured him. The bright spark in Snape's eye told me he would come with me.

"As much as I have enjoyed your home, I would be very glad to be free to move about in public. I've read almost the entire library," he murmured with a rueful smile. Dad returned his smile and clapped him on the back.

"We'll hardly know what to do without the two of you. Well, I'd best stop your mother before she makes enough food for an army," Dad excused, heading into the kitchen as well. I turned toward Snape.

"Do you think we ought to begin packing?" I asked. He shrugged. "Well, we may as well. When Mum and Dad are in the kitchen together, it's best to stay out of the way. Snogging parents are to be avoided at all costs."

"Indeed. In that case, let's begin," he replied, wrinkling his nose as he glanced toward the kitchen. I giggled under my breath as I got up and went up the stairs to my room. Quietly, I began shrinking my belongings and packing them into my safely bottomless, feather-light handbag. After a few minutes, I began to hum, packing my books away far more carefully than I had my clothing. _My priorities will never be straight, will they? Oh, well. I'd rather have my knowledge intact than my looks and nothing will ever change that_. I picked up _Gulliver's Travels_ and smiled at the cover fondly before I thought of the angry words we'd spoken after I'd thrown it at the wall between us. A knock made me look up to find him leaning on the edge of the open doorway.

"Your Mum wanted me to tell you that she and your father are going out. Evidently, they didn't want to bother us while we were packing," he informed me. I nodded and stood up to put up my book, but he was beside me in a flash and plucked the book from my hands. "Ah,_ Gulliver's Travels_ again."

"Yeah," I replied quietly, wondering if his anger would return. He handed me the book back after a moment.

"You were right that day," he murmured as I turned to put the book away. I froze. "About Evans and Potter. About me."

"A-About what?" I asked, biting my lip to taste blood. _I've got to break this habit_.

"I didn't deserve her. She was too good, too precious for a Dark smear on the time stream like me," he answered. I turned toward him angrily.

"Don't dare to talk about yourself in such a way, Severus. You're a wonderful person and perhaps I was wrong when I said that. Yes, I was wrong. I was angry and I spoke without thinking and perhaps I was even a bit ignorant at the time, but now I see that you're one of the best people I've ever met and I'm more than glad to have had this chance to know you," I informed him, speaking quickly as I sought to control my temper. Once I realised how thoroughly I had taken back my previous words, I felt a blush rising on my face. _I've gone too far. I've complimented him. Now he'll know exactly how I feel_. "Severus, I...I... Have you finished packing? I would like to spend most of tomorrow getting everything set up in the new house."

"Hermione," he murmured quietly. The jolt that went through me rooted my feet to the ground like cement.

"Wh-What did you just call me?" I stuttered. Before I quite knew what was happening, he was standing just before me and his long fingers were gently lifting my chin, making me look up at him.

"That _is_ your name, Gryffindor," he reminded me, his eyes beautifully dark as his lips twitched into a slight smirk. I looked away, feeling flustered and apprehensive as I tried to decide whether or not I was dreaming.

"I know that," I replied, feeling frustrated tears forming in my eyes. _Oh, Merlin, no. I can't _cry_. Not now!_ A low, rumbling chuckle began in his chest and, suddenly, I was in his arms, laughing freely. One of his hands was around my waist, pressing me close to him, while the other cradled the back of my head. By the time we stopped laughing, we were swaying slightly on our feet, like we were dancing to a slow, quiet song, and I realised I never wanted it to stop. "Well. This complicates things."

"Yes, it does. I should never have allowed it," he muttered, frowning past me at the wall. I felt a sting of rejection even though I knew it wasn't me but the circumstances that he was irritated with. He seemed to sense my unhappiness and looked back down, offering me a slight smile. "It's too late now and I'm certainly not going to take back that moment."

"You...You mean you're actually interested?" I asked, my voice breathless in surprise. He rolled his eyes and pressed my head to his shoulder again, making us sway slightly once more.

"More interested than I have ever been in another human being. You are a special woman, Hermione Granger, even if you are a Gryffindor," he murmured into my hair. I felt him chuckle and looked up again so he could see me roll my eyes.

"You aren't so bad yourself...for a Slytherin," I retorted. The loud, grandfather clock downstairs rang ten loudly and we separated. "Well, I'll see you in the morning. We'd best finish packing and go to sleep. We'll need our rest for the busy day ahead of us."

"Agreed. Good night, Gryffindor."

"G'night, Severus."

...


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Well, that's everything. Is there any other help you would like, dear?" Mum asked as she finished organising the bookshelf in my room. She was still a bit green from when I'd Apparated her directly to my bedroom in my new house, but we'd both agreed that it would be the quickest way to finish the decorating and she was holding up better than I expected.

"No, that's everything, Mum. You really didn't need to take the day off to help me with my room, but I'm grateful," I told her. She smiled and hugged me close.

"That's what Mums are for, Hermione: cleaning their children's rooms," she retorted with a laugh. I laughed with her until she sighed with a resigned expression. "Are you going to Appa—Appo—Appa—."

"Yes, I'll Apparate us back. Hold onto my arm," I instructed. As soon as we Apparated to the house, she ran to the loo. "We're home!" I announced, drifting toward the kitchen. "Although I suppose I should stop calling it that. As of tomorrow, this won't be where I live anymore."

"This house will be your home as long as you want it to be," Dad commented as he began bringing out the food for dinner. "Now sit down with Severus. Neither of you are permitted to lift a finger for dinner. Speaking of dinner, where's your mum?"

"Oh, she's a bit sick. Apparation can be awful," I answered apologetically. He pretended to understand and went back into the kitchen. By the time everything was ready, Mum was back and looking much better. She sat down and talked cheerily as we ate, only eating a little herself. _She's getting thin. Or perhaps that's still from the war and I hardly noticed, what with all that was going on. I should pay more attention_.

"Well, you can cook after all, love," Mum said cheerily, glancing at Dad with such a loving look it made my heart turn. "Let's see what we have for dessert, shall we?"

"Let's," he agreed, smiling at her as they walked side by side into the kitchen. Snape and I were talking cheerfully while they were in the other room when, with no warning, a loud _bang!_ came from the room and smoke began pouring out of the doorway. I stood as Snape ran to the doorway and looked through. I started toward the door, but he pinned me to his side with his arm and went to the table with the telephone. _Why would Snape be ringing someone? What was that sound? Where are Mum and Dad?_

"Hello, yes, there's been an emergency. A stove explosion, two..._injured_," Snape hissed into the receiver, followed by my address. I stared at the phone in his hands blankly, slowly registering the words.

"Injured? We've got to help them, Severus!" I exclaimed once my mind focused on the word. He shook his head vehemently and ignored my struggles. By the time he set the phone back down, I could hear someone beating on the door. Snape pulled me toward it and whispered rapid directions to the emergency personnel before pushing me onto the couch in the living room, standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders to keep me in place. _I just want to go see. A few spells and all will be set to rights. I just need to get to the kitchen_.

"Hermione, breathe," he instructed. I let out the breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding and took another. After another moment, I saw medics coming through the door with stretchers and stood up before Snape could stop me.

"Let me help, are they so injured, what's wrong with them, what can I do, let me by, please," I said rapidly as I reached the end of the couch. Snape blocked my path as I watched them enter the kitchen. "Let me by, Severus, I have to attend to my parents."

"Hermione, you need to sit down," he instructed firmly. I shook my head wildly, my heart beating fast. Over his shoulder, I saw the back of one of the medics, followed by a stretcher with a body back on it and another medic. I felt the breath leave my lungs before seeing a second stretcher and another body bag exit the kitchen.

"No! They'll suffocate in those! Let them out! Why aren't you helping them?" I shrieked as wild, unnatural tears sprang from my eyes. Snape caught me as I tried to lunge past him. He talked to the emergency personnel in a soothing whisper as I sobbed in his arms. About a minute after my outburst, I abruptly stopped crying and collapsed. One of the medics lifted me to the couch while the other kept talking with Snape.

"Are you feeling okay?" the man asked.

"Yes," I replied in a whisper. He looked up toward the other medic and Snape in worry, but got up and left my side. I stared at the fireplace blankly, my mind as clear of thoughts as though it was infested with a legion of wrackspurts. I saw Snape lean over the fireplace and watched the flames turn green as he murmured something into them. A moment later, Ginny was standing in front of the fireplace with a shocked expression.

"Are you sure? Yes, I trust you on that, I mean about—yes, I'll bring them right away. Stay with her," Ginny said over Snape's rapid whispering. She disappeared back into the flames and Snape glided to the table beside me and conjured a teapot, steaming cheerfully as a pleasant smell wafted from it. He pushed a cup into my hands.

"Drink. You're freezing," he instructed. As though his words forced the realisation into my body, I began to shake violently and he took the teacup back with a sigh.

"Oh, my poor dear girl!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she stepped out of the flames. She had me in her arms before I could move and I found that I was soon passed from her to Ginny as I sat numbly on the couch. "Oh, dear, but she's in shock. Did you give her any tea?"

"She's shaking too badly to drink it," Ginny pointed out. Snape went back to the table and I looked down as he shoved the teacup into my hands again, cooler and less full.

"Why is Mrs. Weasley here? It's dangerous for you. At least go tell Mum and Dad she's here. They always like to talk to her," I stated. Snape knelt in front of me, holding my hands steady, as Mrs. Weasley sobbed loudly.

"Hermione, I can't go tell your parents," he said quietly. I sat straighter with a jolt.

"Why can't you? Severus, don't be silly. Go get them. It's rude," I replied instantly. He vanished the tea with a flick of his hand before holding both of mine tightly in his, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Hermione, your parents are gone," he told me softly. I felt panic rise in me as my eyes clouded over.

"Gone? Gone where? They were just in the kitchen. Must have forgotten something from the store. They'll be back soon," I assured him. He sighed softly. _They'll be back soon_.

"Hermione," Snape said clearly, his voice steady, but huskier than usual. "Your parents won't be coming back. They're dead."

"What?" I exclaimed, jumping from my seat. I took three steps toward the kitchen before my strength left me and Snape caught me just before I hit the floor.

"She's shaking so badly. Do you have a calming draught to give her?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No, I don't. Find some as quickly as you can," Snape instructed as he knelt on the floor, keeping his arms about me to keep me from hurting myself as I shook. "Ginny, send messages to those who should know. She needs her friends."

"Already on it."

...

"I can't stay here. I need to leave," I managed between my quick, faint breaths as Snape led me toward the stairs. I strained away from them violently, shaking so hard that the blanket around my shoulders fell to the floor.

"Do you want to go to the Burrow?" he asked carefully. I shook my head.

"Away. From people," I specified. He led me back toward the fireplace and we took the Floo to my new house.

"Let's get you to your room. You need rest," he murmured soothingly. Once I was safely in my new room, he conjured a new cup of tea and offered me a sad smile before going to his room next door, this time to my right instead of my left. I looked about the room and saw my mother's scarf, left from when we had been cleaning earlier that day. After a moment, I saw Snape coming through the doorway again and realised I was shrieking. "What is it? Ah, I see. I'll remove it."

"Where did you put it?" I asked when he Apparated back to my room without the scarf.

"I hung it beside her coat," he informed me as I hyperventilated. With a sigh, he crossed the room and handed me a vial. "Another calming potion."

"Thank you," I managed, drinking it quickly before closing my eyes, my nails digging into my sides as I strove to hold myself together. Once the potion began taking effect, I opened my eyes again to meet Snape's worried gaze. "I'll be okay now. Thank you. Sorry to be so mad."

"You loved your parents. You're hardly the first to be driven mad by grief," he soothed. I offered him a watery smile and he nodded, taking it as the dismissal I'd intended it to be. Once he was gone, I looked about the room. The memories of my mother oppressed me until I was forced to leave the room and knock shyly on the next door.

"What is it?" Snape called, sounding groggy, as though he had been asleep. _How long did I sit there?_ I opened the door quietly as he waved his hand to raise the lights. I tasted blood and realised I was chewing on my lower lip again.

"I...I can't be in that room. I can't sit there. She was there today. And I don't want to be alone. Could I...just sleep in your armchair? Please, I don't want to be alone. I...I don't know what to think or feel or do," I stammered.

"Come here," he instructed. I stumbled to his bedside and he took my wrist gently and pulled me down onto his bed before waving his hand again to close the door, lower the lights, and open the window so a cool breeze would come inside. "This bed is too big for just me and I won't have you sleeping in an armchair."

"Th-Thank you," I cried, throwing myself into his arms. He stiffened for a moment, but his arms soon relaxed around me as I sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm not normally like this."

"Hush, Hermione. Everything will be fine," he murmured. He began to hum softly, soothingly, and I fell asleep with the sound of his voice in my ears and the feel of his strong arms around me.

...


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Mrs. Weasley dropped breakfast off. She said she'd come by later, if you wanted, but I told her that you probably don't want company right now," Snape informed me as I found him in the kitchen. I nodded.

"You're right. I don't," I told him.

"She also offered to allow me to stay at the Burrow, if you would prefer that I not stay," he added quietly.

"No, I want you here. I don't trust myself to be alone," I informed him as I went to his side to see what Mrs. Weasley dropped off. Although the food looked delicious, I recoiled from the scent and sought the nearest chair. "I need to get the paperwork done. There's so much to do."

"It's only been three days, Hermione. You don't have to do everything at once," he assured me.

"I want it to be done. They're cremated, the memorial is over, and now I want the paperwork to be over. If only that lawyer would get it through his thick head that I want to sell the house and the car and everything else, all would be well," I sighed.

"I'll go with you to meet him again today. A few spells and this part, at least, can be behind you," he soothed.

"Thank you, Severus," I said quietly. "For staying and for caring."

"That's what friends are for. Isn't that what you emotional Gryffindors say?" he asked. I smiled despite myself and began to giggle. Inevitably, I fell into hysterics, tears and laughter flowing freely as I crossed the kitchen to Snape's side and wrapped my arms around him.

"Oh, what am I going to do when you leave?" I groaned, thinking of how well our research had been going.

"I won't leave so long as you need me," he murmured.

"You and I both know that you must leave as soon as the spell is perfected. The time stream—."

"To hell with the time stream! Do you honestly think I would leave if I wasn't perfectly satisfied that you were well?" he exclaimed angrily. I smiled at the sentiment his anger implied and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you, Severus," I whispered. His arms tightened around me, holding me close and offering me their strength.

"Don't worry so much, Gryffindor."

"Can't. It's in my nature."

"Bloody emotional Gryffindors."

...

"I spoke with George, since you were so concerned about your three week's absence. He said that the new shop can wait years if it has to and that he doesn't want you to worry about work or money, but about yourself," Snape informed me. I saw the half-supressed jealousy on his face and turned away as I nodded, hiding my smile from view.

"I hope you thanked him for me. He's been a good friend since all this began. Isn't it good that he and Angelina are doing so well together? Honestly, I think they may be married within the year," I replied conversationally. When I looked back at him, I saw that the suspicion and jealousy were cleared from his eyes and breathed easier. I sighed as I leaned back into the couch. "So many weddings. Ron's marrying Lavender, Ginny's seeing _yet_ another superior at work, although she won't tell me who. Seems to be becoming a habit of hers, now that I think about it. Even Harry seems to be doing well with that—what was her name?—Mary? Martha? Oh, it doesn't matter. It's just so good to see so much happiness, now that..."

"Don't think about it like that. Don't look at it in terms of your sadness and everyone else's happiness. They can coexist," he murmured, coming to take his seat beside me. I leaned into his side, noting his hesitance when he placed his arm around my shoulders. I frowned.

"Why do you do that? That—That acting like you don't quite want to touch me," I asked. He jumped in surprise.

"I would not wish you to believe that I am taking advantage of your emotional state, Gryffindor," he informed me. "Others would easily believe so. After all, I am a Slytherin."

"But you wouldn't do that. Not to me," I replied instinctively.

"So confident in me, aren't you? How do you know I wouldn't?" he asked, his voice cool and mocking. I knew he didn't mean it—so used to his presence that I could hear the warmth in his voice underneath the convincing falsehood—and snuggled further into his side.

"Quite frankly, anyone wishing to harm me would've taken advantage of me when I threw myself into their arms that first night after they died. It would've been easy and I would've been so desirous of forgetting that I never would've protested," I pointed out before frowning darkly. "Probably still wouldn't. Need to work on that."

"That would be wise," he agreed, tugging at the collar of his robes absently. I rolled my eyes before sighing.

"It feels so strange without them. What did you do when your parents died?" I asked, moving to look up at him. He sighed.

"With my father's death, I certainly didn't feel anything you could understand in such a situation. I laughed when they told me. Finally, I was freed of his tyranny, his beatings. Oh, yes, he was abusive. It was more toward my mother when I was younger, but, once I was old enough to understand what was going on, I always jumped between them and took the beating myself. He didn't deserve to be called human, let alone a _man_. I hated him and was glad when he was gone," Snape practically snarled, lip curled in anger as he thought of his father.

"I would never have guessed you lived through something like that, though it does make sense. It was brave and good of you to protect your mother," I commented quietly, trying not to be intimidated by the level of hatred on his face as I reminded myself that pain was the source of that hatred.

"Ha! It would have been _brave_ for me to kill him in his sleep and keep her permanently from harm. It would have been _brave_ for me to force her to a help centre and free her from him. No, I took the easy way and I accept that fact," he murmured in reply. I looked at him expectantly and he sighed. "I did love my mother. Not like you loved yours, of course. I loved her in a sad, disconnected way. Anything more would've been dangerous with her addictions and my father's wrath, but I did love her. She had been pretty and smart once and she occasionally had bouts of cleverness and even kindness, but mostly she was just a broken, hopeless thing."

"When she died?" I asked, knowing he would understand the rest of the question.

"I was upset. It had been less than a month after my father passed and I remember being irrationally angry with her. After all, we had just been freed from our abuser and she could _finally_ be happy, but instead she died. I think she didn't want to try to live a different life after living the same one so long. The night after her death, I asked if I could remain at Hogwarts for the remainder of the summer and Dumbledore agreed. I had no family or friends to be with me and the barmy old fool thought that perhaps house-elves and the villagers of Hogsmeade could cheer me up. I think it surprised him that I never cried or shouted or acted out. I behaved perfectly," he informed me. He frowned after a moment, realising he hadn't really answered my question. "I didn't mention my grieving process or emotions at the time very much."

"You didn't have to. I understood," I assured him, closing my eyes as I put my head on his shoulder. In a sudden bout of grief, I felt tears start forming in my eyes again and let them fall quietly, unobtrusively from my eyes. We sat there quietly until even the streaks on my cheeks from the tears had dried once more. So suddenly I think it startled us both, I sat up and gave him a pleading look with the quiet command of "Kiss me."

"What?" he asked, sitting back with a horrified expression.

"I said, 'Kiss me.'" I repeated. He gave me the sort of look a first year would display when confronted with a dementor riding a hippogriff. With a roll of my eyes as I realised achieving my simple goal would take more effort, I pressed my lips quickly to his before returning my head to his shoulder, the rest of me safely curled into his side again. "That was sadly disappointing. I thought Slytherins were good at that sort of thing."

"Perhaps, had I been given a moment to overcome my utter shock, you would have found me more pleasing," he retorted. I snickered and lifted my head to meet his eyes again.

"Prove it," I smirked. With a look that clearly told me to take my dares with me to the netherworld and not bother him again, he pulled my lips to his. His lips moved on mine tentatively at first, but he soon deepened the kiss, one hand splayed across my back as the other tangled in my hair. By the time we separated, we were both flushed and out of breath.

"Bloody Gryffindor," he muttered, the barest hint of affection underlying his irritation.

"Hmm. Slytherins _are_ good at something," I commented. He chuckled despite himself and I smiled before sighing sadly. "They loved you, you know. It would've made them happier than anything to know we were together."

"I know. Your father more or less instructed me to make sure you didn't get lonely in your new home, if you know what I mean," he informed me. I looked up in surprise to catch him rolling his eyes. "Ah, yes, well, he didn't tell your mother about that, but he meant it."

"I believe you. Ugh, Dad. Silly old man," I sighed, managing a weak, watery smile as I thought of him and how I would miss him. "Hard to believe he's gone, isn't it? And Mum and the house and everything non-sentimental that they owned. All gone. Puff! Like a twig in a flame."

"You all right, Gryffindor?" Snape asked quietly, rubbing my arm soothingly.

"I will be. Eventually. Right now, it's one day at a time," I replied, trying to enthuse my voice with a bit of cheerfulness.

"That's all it ever is."

...


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," I murmured with a weak smile as she set a basket of food in front of me. "I appreciate your kindness in this difficult time."

"Oh, nonsense. You know we're always here for you, dear, and we wouldn't want you to worry about anything. Focus on yourself and we'll take care of everything else," she assured me. I turned from her under the pretence of moving the basket, trying to hide the raw emotions on my face. _Let them think you're recovering nicely. You must not allow them to see your pain. That's what the societal rule books say_.

"Where are my manners? Would you like some tea, Mrs. Weasley?" I asked, carefully keeping from meeting Snape's eye as I turned back toward her.

"No, no, sit down, dear. I'll make some tea. G'morning, Severus," Mrs. Weasley answered, already bustling toward the kitchen. Snape's arms wrapped around me as I stood frozen in the middle of the living room.

"Do you want her to leave?" he murmured. I sighed.

"I don't know. When we're alone, I sometimes feel like there should be people through the house, staying with me to keep the house warm and noisy and alive. When people are here, I generally only want to be alone because I'm afraid I may have some sort of outburst," I explained. "I don't know which desire is stronger at the moment."

"Then let's sit down and, the moment you decide what you want, you can tell me and I'll take care of it," he offered. I nodded and sat down on the couch, careful to sit away from him. _I don't want the others to know. They would be angry with me and rightfully so. Who is to say how much damage our relationship could do?_

"Here's some tea, sweetie. I brought you a scone as well as I thought you might be hungry," Mrs. Weasley informed me as she pressed a saucer with a cup of tea and a scone into my hands. I nodded in thanks and watched as she brought Snape an identical saucer. "You're looking a bit pale yourself, young man, so I brought you some as well."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he answered politely. Watching me to ensure I was at least sipping the overly sweet tea she had given me, the two of them worked on their own.

"How has George been with work?" I asked, looking at Mrs. Weasley. The smile she gave me was so sweet and sad I had to look away.

"You're such a darling, Hermione, dear. George is doing perfectly fine with the shop. Ron's been helping out with running the store and watching Fred, so George has been free to make the potions himself," she assured me.

"Good. I'm glad that everyone else is doing okay," I replied. Almost as soon as the words left my mouth, she was bustling about the room, tiding the already too clean space to hide her emotions. _I wish I was permitted to hide as easily, but, no, I must sit in the centre of attention at all times. I must be watched to ensure I am coping_. "Mrs. Weasley, I hate to ask you to leave so early, but I'm feeling very sleepy. Would you forgive me?"

"Oh, of course, dear. I'll stay for a little while to help around the house, but you go on straight up to bed. Go on, up, up, up," she pressed, waving toward the stairs that led to the living quarters. I obediently went upstairs and curled up in Snape's bed automatically, hardly thinking of the master bedroom next door that was supposed to be mine. _I'm so cold. Cold and tired. Is this how I'm supposed to feel or am I becoming ill? I hope not. I don't think I could survive a fever just now_.

...

"Why did you jump so much when I threw myself at you that night?" I asked quietly, feeling safe and almost whole in his arms.

"I had intended to sleep on the other side of the bed. As I said, it was too big for just me. I didn't know you would take my words to mean I was offering my services as a living teddy bear," he chuckled.

"Oh. I suppose I ought to go back to my side—."

"Absolutely not," he replied immediately. "I didn't say I didn't _want_ to have you here, next to me. Merely that that wasn't what I had intended originally."

"I see. So, what you're saying is that now I'm _your_ teddy bear and you aren't going to give me up," I answered. He nodded and I giggled, listening to his quiet chuckle with the sort of adoration I'd always thought myself above. I looked up at him quietly, learning the lines of his face as though he would vanish if I forgot a single one of them. "Severus?"

"Yes, Gryffindor?" he asked, his voice quiet and deep. I smiled softly, knowing he understood, and he pressed his lips to mine. With all of the desperation of my grief, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him as close to me as I could, longing only to rid myself of the feeling of hopeless aloneness that seemed to fill my soul. With a soft moan I could have imagined, he pulled me as close to him as he could and I thought that perhaps he was as desperate as I was. "We shouldn't be doing this, Gryffindor."

"I don't care. Do you?" I asked, my fingertips digging into his back through his robes to prevent him from moving away. He answered me by pressing his lips to mine again and kissing me so soundly I wondered if I would ever breathe normally again. When we finally broke away from one another, I laid my head on his shoulder and realised that his heart was beating just as wildly as mine. "I can't believe I ever hated you."

"I would suspect that you didn't know me," he murmured placidly, rubbing my arm lightly.

"How could I?" I asked. "I haven't told you because I try not to connect the Snape I knew with you, but you were my professor. An angry, bitter professor at that."

"A professor? Why would I choose to spend all my time around children?" he asked, his face twisted in disgust.

"To protect Harry Potter, Lily's son," I answered, deciding that telling him everything couldn't do much more damage than we were already causing. "If you truly want to know, I'll tell you why you lived and died protecting him, but it won't be a pleasant tale."

"If you want to tell me, I will listen. You know I'm curious," he murmured, smoothing my hair down affectionately.

"You were trying to help the Dark Lord and you overheard a prophecy. Like a good little Death-Eater, you immediately told him, but you missed part of the Prophecy and you didn't think about what it meant. Lily was pregnant and, based on the prophecy, he decided that her son was the threat mentioned in the Prophecy. You begged him to spare her and then went to Dumbledore to beg the same. Dumbledore sent Lily and James into hiding, but Peter Pettigrew was their Secret Keeper and he betrayed them. Voldemort killed them, but Harry survived. After that, you worked at Hogwarts as Potions Master and spent the rest of your life trying—and succeeding, for what it's worth—to protect him, even though you were more or less universally hated. Your roles as a double spy and an awfully demeaning professor kept you isolated from everyone," I told him. "I think you were...miserable."

"Perhaps I won't be if I have memories of you. It sounds like I have made and will make awful decisions, but, provided I remember your smile, I believe I may be able to cope," he told me.

"If that's the case, why wasn't Lily enough to save you from the darkness? Don't be offended, please, but I'm curious, especially since I've been compared to her by my professors before," I asked.

"While it's true that I loved her and always, in a way, will, she was never quite...the friend that you are. We didn't have the same...connection, as you and I seem to have. She and I had too little in common besides our poor upbringing," he replied. "You, however, are intelligent and curious, both of which are qualities I admire. She was clever, but never curious and I doubt if she was ever convinced to break a rule."

"I've broken my fair share of rules, that's for sure. I even stole from your personal ingredients stores once to secretly make Polyjuice Potion," I admitted. "You never caught me, you know. You always suspected that it was Harry, but I was the one that did it."

"I imagine you worked hard to ensure I didn't suspect you. You don't strike me as the sort of person who sought trouble in school," he commented.

"When I was in first year, I told Harry and Ron that I thought getting expelled would be worse than dying. I've yet to see why they thought I was mad for it," I admitted. He chuckled and drew my face up to kiss me again.

"I suspect that will never change."

...


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Are you sure you want to work today, Hermione? You don't have to," George asked for the fifth time as I helped him set out products.

"I'm positive, George. I need to face the world instead of hide at home," I answered confidently.

"Well, if you're certain, Hermione. I don't want you to push yourself," he commented, still not confident. I shook my head with a chuckle.

"Why don't _I_ worry about myself and you focus on yourself?" I suggested with a forgiving smile. He shook his head and returned it.

"You're right. Sorry, Hermione," he apologised.

"Don't worry. Now, I've heard a rumour that you and Angelina are getting more serious. Do I need to be offering my congratulations soon?" I asked. He blushed, the colour clashing with his hair in a horrible way.

"I'll let you know on Monday," he answered. I smiled brightly.

"Oh, how exciting! She'll say yes, I'm sure. It'll be good to see another wedding soon," I commented, glad to hear of happiness after being in my sad world so long.

"She hasn't agreed yet," he reminded me. I saw his pleased smile, however, and knew that I was right.

"Mm-hmm. We'll see on Monday if I was right," I replied, tossing a butterbeer at him as we headed toward the store's staff room for a break. He punched my shoulder playfully before pulling me into a hug and ruffling my hair. "George! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get my hair to lie flat?"

"Sorry, little sister. Couldn't help it."

"I'll get you back for that, you know, and I'm every bit as clever in pranks as I am schoolwork."

"Ha! That's the Hermione we've all missed!"

...

"Did you cook dinner?" I asked loudly as I set my handbag on the table in the entrance, smelling food.

"I thought you might appreciate an evening of peace," he answered as I met him in the dining room.

"Oh. That's...kind of you," I commented, feeling uncomfortable that one of my daily chores had been taken from me. When I saw the smirk on his face, though, I rolled my eyes and walked into his arms. With my voice dripping with as much sarcasm as I could muster, I asked, "How can I ever repay you?"

"Bloody Gryffindor," he chuckled.

"You know, I would be offended if anyone else dared to call me anything involving such a word. I am not known for my tolerance of bad language," I informed him.

"'Gryffindor' _is_ a rather nasty term," he agreed. Restraining a giggle, I smacked him on the shoulder and fought my way out of his arms.

"Not as bad as _Slytherin_, surely," I retorted once I was safely away. He gave me a look, one eyebrow arched, and I fled toward the kitchen, knowing even as I ran that he would catch me. Once he pinned me to the edge of my counter, he kissed me breathless. "Ugh, I can't believe you grow up to be my _professor_."

"Perhaps I don't," he murmured. "Perhaps I never return to the past."

"Severus," I whispered. "We both know you _must_ go to the past at some point. You have to go back. And soon as well, in all reality. You've already been in my time almost a year."

"Do you really think I would be able to behave as expected if I returned now? How could I knowingly cause the death of Lily and James? How could I continue to work with the Death Eaters knowing they left a mark like they did on you?" he asked, anger in his voice.

"Severus, _there is no choice_. You _must_ go back and you _must_ behave exactly as the rest of us remember," I repeated.

"I would rather stay with you until the time stream implodes. A few days of happiness is worth more than a thousand lifetimes of misery, however _noble_, as you so like to call it," he growled. I tried to move away from him, but he kept his arms resolutely around me.

"Severus, you must return!" I declared for the thousandth time. The growl that came from somewhere deep in his chest frightened me so much that my struggles stopped.

"No. I won't return. I won't go back and break us both. You bloody Gryffindors may be self-sacrificing enough for something like that, but I'm not," he informed me darkly. "I have you here, whole, in my arms, and I won't leave knowing you would fall apart the moment I left."

"I'm not so hopeless and dependent that I wouldn't be able to function without you, Severus. I like you and I'm glad that you're here, but I would be perfectly fine if you left," I protested, angry that he perceived me to be so dependent and weak.

"Oh, you would, would you? You wouldn't only go to work and come home, ignore your friends, and isolate yourself from other human beings? I know you wouldn't break down. You wouldn't cry or scream or throw a fit: you hardly did that when your parents first passed. But I know you, Hermione, and I know that you would slowly crack up until you shattered and your friends, having perceived nothing, would be left to pick up the pieces and put them in a box in the ground," he snarled.

"And what, exactly, would you do? If you're so determined to say I would react poorly, I would like to hear your defence of yourself because I quite frankly believe you would fair no better. I've brought life to you, whether you'll admit it or not, and the moment you returned to the past you would have nothing left. No reason to live or try—no more than I would have. But that's the difference between us, Severus. I'm willing to give both you and my happiness up for the chance of saving the world. _You_ are acting like a spoiled Slytherin brat," I returned. I felt the counter digging painfully into my back as he pushed me further into it, but I ignored it.

"No," he said clearly. "No, for once in my life, I'm taking what I want and not caring about the consequences. I care about you, you need me, and I will not leave you under any circumstances."

"Severus, let's not argue about this now, please," I requested suddenly, recognising that the frustration inside me would soon spark tears if I didn't do something to distract myself. "Let's pretend this didn't happen and get our dinner and have a nice meal and maybe a chat. Let's not fight."

"Don't cry. The fight is over," he told me, smoothing my hair back as I began to sob into his shoulder, incapable of restraining the frustration tears. We sat down to a quiet dinner once I was calmer and spent and peaceful evening reading together on the couch. It was only as I lay listening to his even breathing that night that I realised he believed the fight was over because he won. _If he's truly against it, I'll have to think of some other way. Merlin, but I'll have to send him back with my own spell, won't I? I'll have to separate us_.

...


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Ginny, I need your help," I said quietly as she sat at the table. Her sunny smile instantly became a worried, serious expression.

"What do you need, Hermione? You know I'll help," she assured me.

"It's about Severus," I specified. Her expression became confused.

"What's wrong with Snape?" she asked. I closed my eyes for a moment with a sigh and she took my hands across the table, offering her support.

"We have to send him back against his will. He says he won't go under any circumstances," I informed her.

"What? Why? Surely he knows how much damage staying here could do," she exclaimed.

"Yes, he understands. He's clever, even if he's gone daft. He says he won't leave because of me," I explained.

"Because of...Oh, Merlin, he's fallen in love with you, hasn't he? I knew this would happen. At least you were sensible enough to keep yourself out of harm's way on that front," she offered. I smiled as cheerfully as I could. _This is best. This way, they won't worry about me. Surely I can pretend not to care_. "How are we supposed to send him back without his knowledge, though?"

"For that, we need to do more research. He would notice if I kept reading about time, so I would like you to take that up, if you would. I can send you the books I have and the notes I've taken so you have a basis to begin. As for me, I'll work on memory charms. He mustn't remember anything about us when he's back in his own time or it would influence his behaviour," I informed her. She nodded in response to the plan.

"You're right. It's the only way this will work to keep anything from changing," she agreed. "I'll do whatever I have to, Hermione. In the meantime, you make sure not to let him know what we're up to. I have this feeling that, even at our age, he was a formidable foe and we should avoid becoming his enemy at all costs."

"Trust me; I don't want to be on his bad side any more than you do."

...

"How, exactly, did I get forced into this shopping venture?" Snape asked acidly as we walked toward the new Weasley and Weasley shop to meet George and Angelina.

"Quite frankly, George needs someone to help and I can't very well help the groom-to-be pick out his robes. We're enough like siblings that it wouldn't be awkward to us, but that awful Rita Skeeter is writing again and I don't want her to hear of anything that may put a shadow over their big day," I answered lightly. "Besides, if I'm to help with picking out a dress, I'm going to make sure you have your share of misery as well."

"Kind of you," he muttered, glaring at his Muggle clothing and glamoured tan skin.

"Wouldn't want you to miss out on the fun," I retorted. Once we arrived at the shop, we were soon swept into the two different groups.

"I'm so glad you could come, Hermione," Angelina said as she hugged me. "I'll need a voice of reason to keep me steady today, I'm sure."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Angelina. I'm so happy you and George are finally going to tie the knot," I assured her, smiling. Soon, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina, Ginny, and I were looking through the racks in a Muggle dress shop. I listened to their girly chatter, scathingly cutting down their boyfriends with a great happiness, and I found myself smiling despite my inability to join their conversation. _It's good to just be a girl for a little while. To forget about death and time and sneaky plans to cast a spell on the person I care about most—in the back_.

"Oh, now that we've got the dress picked, let's go get mani-pedis. It's too soon for the wedding, of course, but that's just an excuse to get another!" Alicia suggested. Ginny grinned widely.

"I'll pay. Let's go," she agreed. As Alicia led us to her favourite nail salon, I fell into step beside Ginny.

"Where are you getting all your money, Gin? You bought me a new wardrobe, you bought Angelina's dress, and now you're paying for this. That isn't like you," I asked.

"That's what nice male bosses are for, Hermione," she smirked. "They don't ask about how much their tea or coffee is and they _never_ look at expense lists."

"You're using your boss's money?" I asked incredulously. She made a motion to demand that I quiet down and rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, Hermione. There won't be any trouble for it. My current boss actually _knows_ how I'm spending his money. Blaise didn't," she informed me. I frowned as she pulled me into the salon. "My personal expenses are listed as an addition to my salary. Treating my friends to a relaxing day most definitely counts as personal."

"You're terrible, Ginerva."

"Not at all."

...


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"I know what you're doing, you know," Snape murmured between kisses, making me freeze. "I've watched the books disappear and reappear. I'm not daft."

"I...I..." I stuttered, now wanting to believe that he understood. He moved away from me to meet my eyes.

"You're planning to send me back without my permission. You've been far too obvious about it," he informed me. I stared at him blankly, only barely able to make out his expression in the dim light. The expression I saw was not encouraging.

"You knew I couldn't let it go. You _must_ return to the past, no matter how much we don't want that to happen," I reminded him with a sigh. He watched me for a long moment before suddenly pushing my back into the mattress, covering my body with his as he kissed me with a passion I had not before known he contained. Once I had to push him away to breathe, he kissed along the line of my jaw and then down my throat. He kissed his way back to my jaw and then kissed behind my ear.

"Are you certain you don't want to keep me, Gryffindor? I can make it worth your time," he whispered silkily in my ear, sending a jolt through my system.

"Severus, we both know—."

"—that you're determined to be the most miserable witch to ever live?" he interrupted. I sighed, as upset that he wasn't kissing me as I was that he was angry again. He moved away from me, turning his back toward me.

"Severus!" I protested, frowning at the back of his head. He didn't respond at all. "Severus, you _know_ we have no choice. I hate to say it, but you're acting like a hormone-driven teenager and I expected you to be above such things."

"I'm twenty-one, Gryffindor, not eighty," he murmured in reply. I felt a blush creep into my face as I realised exactly what I had accused him of and how he had answered. After a moment, he looked over his shoulder at me. "Your face is so red I believe it may actually be emitting light."

"Humph," I replied maturely as I climbed out of the bed. I stalked out of the room and then stopped in the hallway. _I can't go to the room that's supposed to be mine. I can't stay there—not when...not when Mum was there. Where else can I go?_ Even as I asked myself the question, I noticed that I was feeling lightheaded and realised my breathing was light and rapid, tremors beginning to run through my body. _Oh, no. Not another panic attack. Not now_. I sank to the floor quietly and hid my face in my hands.

"Calm down," Snape instructed soothingly, kneeling beside me as he found me in the floor in the hallway. "Calm down."

"I—I—I'm—trying," I stammered, turning into his chest as I tried to gain control of myself. "I—I'm—so—s-sorry."

"Don't worry about me. Focus on calming yourself. I'd rather not slap you if I don't have to," he murmured, allowing a bit of humour into his voice. I laughed a little and closed my eyes as tightly as I could, trying to lock my quaking muscles into place. _I can do this. I can calm down. I can stop the panic attack_. I focused on the gentle movement of his hand over my hair, on the quiet hum he was making, on the strength of his arms around me. "You're going to be fine."

"I—I know," I managed, my tremors slowing. "I know. I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry. You're holding up better than many people would," he assured me. We sat silently for a long moment, his arms around me as I leaned against his chest with my eyes tightly closed. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm better. Thank you for staying with me, even after...," I replied, blushing as I thought of how angry I had been a few short moments before. His humming continued as he kissed the top of my head in a gesture as tender as it was uncharacteristic.

"We both know you were right. No matter how much I wish there was another way, we both know I have to be returned to the past. I have been immature," he told me. I looked up at him with shocked eyes and realised that, until he admitted the truth, I had, in my heart, somehow clung to the belief that he would find some solution that would not take me from him. "I won't act in such a way now. I'll help you find the way to send me to the past."

"I've almost finished correcting the spell. It should be ready to try in another month," I informed him, finding that the steely mask he had worn through all of my past acquaintance with him as a professor was covering his face.

"Good."

...

"Gin, I won't be at lunch tomorrow. I'm taking the day off—from everything. I think maybe I wasn't quite ready to go back to living full-time," I apologised as we sat quietly at the café. She gave me a concerned look, but nodded.

"I understand, Hermione. Will you let me know if you'll be meeting me on Monday, then?" she asked.

"Yeah," I answered, barely stopping myself from assuring her I would be. _After all, I don't know how the spell will work and I don't know how I'll respond if...if it's successful and we have the strength to send him all the way back_.

"Good. I've got to get back to work, so I'll talk to you later, 'Mione, okay?" she informed me with a smile. I smiled, nodded, and waved, remaining in my seat for another minute before I got up and Apparating back to Hogsmeade. I opened the door to my house quietly, but Snape heard it and met me in the living room once I'd hung up my coat.

"Are you ready?" I asked, doing my best to hide how ill I felt.

"The spell seems to be in order," he responded, inclining his head slightly to indicate all was prepared. I sighed.

"Good. Let's begin. To test it, should we try to send you five minutes into the future again? It seems less dangerous than it would be to try to send you all the way to the past," I suggested.

"Agreed. I'll lay down on the couch again for this attempt as well," he informed me, sitting down.

"For the best, I'm sure. _Accio_ potions kit. There, now we have that. If that's all, I suppose we're ready to try the spell," I said, swallowing hard as I moved the chair beside the couch and sat down. His eyes met mine and I saw in them that he, too, recognised the moment for what it was—that this would tell us exactly how long we had left with one another—and I knew that we had made a decision that would haunt us both for the rest of our lives. I knew that, if successful, I would never see him again.

"In that case, let's begin," he murmured. I raised my wand and cast the spell, knowing that I would have to be the one to do it in the end. Like before, smoke rose up and hid him from view. I saw that the couch was bare once it cleared and watched my clock nervously as I waited to see if it was successful. After five minutes, he reappeared on the couch. I met his eyes and knew that he would see the horror in mine and that we would both know that it was over. He would leave. _He will leave me_.

"Five minutes exactly. Are you well?" I asked.

"Yes, but a bit disoriented. I need to rest before we try again," he replied, paler than usual.

"In that case, why don't we wait until tomorrow to...?" I asked. He nodded and sat up. After a moment of staring at one another blankly, he took my hand and drew me into his arms, finding my lips with his. I only realised I was crying when I began to shake. Gently, he pressed my head to his shoulder and ran his hands through my hair. "It's really over. Tomorrow you'll be gone and you won't even remember anything."

"I know," he murmured. I was still sane enough to realise that I hadn't told him about his memories, but that he knew anyway.

"How did you know about the memory charm I was planning?" I asked between sobs.

"I know you," he whispered, his voice huskier than usual. I cried more violently, suddenly feeling like life had nothing to offer me but sorrow. "Besides, we both know it will be necessary. How could I act as a heartless Death Eater with memories of you in my arms?"

"I can't bear it! Oh, I can't bear it!" I sobbed, my heart so heavy in my chest I thought I would die. "Oh, Severus, I'll miss you so much. And you won't even remember me."

"Perhaps not at first, but I had an idea," he replied, his voice hinting at excitement despite his sadness. I sat up and read his eyes to see that there was hope there. A sad hope, not of happiness, but of something.

"What idea?"

"At first, I thought that we could modify a memory charm so that I would remember eventually, but my research showed that attempting to do so would allow the memories to be sparked by my first sight of you and that wouldn't be very helpful. I kept researching, but I couldn't find anything," he informed me. I was confused as to how that would be helpful until I noticed the twinkle in his eyes. "And then I remembered what you told me about my memories when I died."

"The Pensieve! You could extract all your memories and keep them in a vial. Even better, we could send the vial and a letter of explanation to you at the proper time, now that we know how to use the time spells correctly," I exclaimed, seeing how obvious the answer had been.

"Exactly. Knowing I die on the second of May, I wanted to send the memories back on the first. I want to have one day where I remember the warmth of you in my arms and the sound of your voice in my ears," he told me. I buried my face in his shoulder as I struggled to overcome the force of the emotions I was feeling. He rubbed my back gently, soothingly. I chuckled to myself.

"Remember the last time you tried the spell? Once I realised I was giving you a massage, I thought I would die of embarrassment," I admitted. He chuckled as well.

"It was then that I realised I was slowly growing attracted to you. Instead of stopping it like any good, responsible adult would have done, I encouraged it. It was too late once you slipped past the lifelong barriers I'd raised against human connections," he told me.

"I felt so foolish when I realised I fancied you. How could I want to be with someone I knew for a fact wouldn't be able to stay with me, even if he wanted to? How could I like someone at all when I knew that no one in their right mind would like me back?" I asked rhetorically. He kissed me soundly as soon as I stopped talking, doubtless feeling the same desperation to be close while we could be.

"You truly care for me, don't you? Merlin, why did it have to be this way?" he asked, his momentary happiness falling from his face.

"It's the way it always is. At least we have today. Let's make the most of it."

"Agreed."

...


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Merlin, but do we have to get up? Do we have to?" I asked as I buried my face in his shoulder. His soft sigh as he held me close gave me my answer and we slowly left each other's arms to get up. As soon as we were standing, I wrapped my arms around him again, burying my face in his chest desperately as I clung to him.

"It's time, Gryffindor," he murmured, his voice soft in my ear as he held me close. I nodded and went to the bathroom to change into new clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror, found every flaw I had, and silently cursed life that nothing could be good and happy for me. _If I love them, they leave. First Crookshanks ran away, then my parents died, and now Severus must leave. I have a job that will never accomplish anything good in the world and I can't even sleep in my own bedroom. What do I have?_

"I'll make breakfast while you get ready," I told Snape as I passed him in the hallway. He nodded and shut himself in the bathroom. With a sigh, I fixed some food for us and made two cups of tea. I sat down and held my mug so tightly it was a miracle it didn't shatter.

"Thank you," Snape said as he took his seat beside me. I nodded and watched him eat his food, my own already in the rubbish bin in the kitchen because I knew my stomach was too upset for me to eat. Once he was finished, I sent the dishes into the kitchen to clean themselves while we drank our tea in silence. We had three cups apiece before we both knew we were stalling and needed to go and cast the spell.

"Let's go back upstairs. I left everything up there and you can't hear the people outside so much from the bedroom," I suggested. He nodded and followed me up the stairs as I mechanically returned us to the room. Once we arrived, he sat at the edge of the bed while I found a piece of parchment and a quill. "What should we write?"

"Let me write it. I know what to say to make my future self read it," he informed me. I handed them to him and watched over his shoulder as he penned a letter to himself, explaining that he needed to recover the memories in the vial and how that could be done permanently with the Pensieve rather than merely visited with it. Once the letter was completed and he had it folded in an envelope addressed to himself, he set it to the side and looked at me. For a long moment, we merely sat there as we memorised one another's features, knowing it was the end. He took my face in his hands gently and kissed me, softly at first, but soon so deeply that I forgot to breathe.

"Severus, I'm going to miss you so much," I whispered once he let me go.

"I would say the same, but I won't be able to miss you but for a day. I can, however, assure you that my last day will be filled only with memories of you," he murmured. I leaned my forehead against his, my eyes closed as I sought to permanently remember the feel of his arms around me, the sound of his quiet breathing, the warmth of his presence. The clock chimed ten and we sat apart. "I should begin extracting the memories."

"Yes, that would be wise," I agreed. I watched as the little vial slowly filled with fluid silver threads. He closed his eyes after a moment.

"I know of our plan, but I can't seem to remember anything else. I know what the letter says and I know that I am to sit here while you take my last memories and then you will cast a spell to send me into the past. I don't know you, but I trust you," he murmured. Tears filling my eyes, I leaned my forehead against his gently. He didn't pull back and he didn't open his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I love you," I whispered as I performed the last two spells. He vanished and I cast the letter and vial back into the past, knowing they would appear on the Headmaster's desk on the first of May, 1998, at precisely three in the afternoon. Once it was done, I sank to the floor and stared at the wall, quiet tears slowly making their way down my cheeks.

...

"Hermione, guess what happened on Friday!" Ginny squealed as she took the seat across from me at the café.

"What happened?" I asked, pasting the best smile I could to my face.

"I got engaged!" she announced. My surprise I did not need to feign.

"You _what?_" I asked.

"To my boss! Isn't that exciting?" she asked, showing me a ring with a diamond the size of my thumbnail.

"I've never even met him and you're engaged to him," I commented, shaking my head. A mischievous smile flitted onto her lips.

"You've met him," she informed me. I spent the next twenty minutes trying to get the information out of her, but she evaded my best attempts. Once she was getting up to leave, she turned back toward me. "Since you'll know soon enough if you're to be my maid-of-honour, I suppose I can tell you. My fiancée is Theodore Nott."

"From school?" I demanded uselessly as she Apparated away. With a shake of my head, I stood and headed back toward the store to work. _Perhaps I'll mention Severus's departure lightly to Ginny later. Telling her would be best now that she's distracted because she won't notice the falsehood in my smile_.

"You're looking pale, Hermione. All right?" George asked as I stepped into the store. I managed a smile and nodded. _Or perhaps I can tell George. He wouldn't suspect me of liking Severus like Ginny would_.

"Just fine. A bit tired after the spells I cast Saturday. Sending Severus back took quite a bit out of me," I admitted.

"You mean it worked? He's gone?" George asked in surprise. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course it worked. Two of the brightest minds of our times were shut in a house together with one little goal. How could we fail?" I retorted. He smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.

"Congratulations on a job well done. Say, Mum was planning a big dinner tonight. Why don't you join us at the house? It'll be just like old times and now we'll really have something to celebrate," he invited. Before I could answer, he ran to help a customer and I knew that my decision would be made for me. _Perhaps it's for the best. I need to practice smiling_.

...


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"This couch is awful," I muttered as I woke up, stretching and rubbing the sore spot in my back. I summoned a new set of clothes from upstairs and went to shower to get ready for the day. _You'll have to go upstairs again eventually, Hermione. You know that. You can't hide_. Knowing I wouldn't listen to my own advice, I finished my shower and headed to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea, knowing breakfast was out of the question. _Five days. He's been gone five days. I've been good, though. I didn't just go to work and come home. I've spent the past two evenings at the Burrow. I've been with friends_.

"Time for work," I told myself, summoning a smile as I walked out my door and down the street to the shop. Madam Rosmerta waved at me as I passed the Three Broomsticks.

"Good morning, Hermione! Pretty day out, isn't it?" she called from her balcony as she swept.

"Absolutely, but I think it's going to get cold later. Make sure to stay warm!" I answered.

"It's always warm in the Inn. Why don't you come by for a butterbeer after work to warm up? A few of the professors are coming by and I think they'd be glad to see you," she invited. I smiled and nodded. "See you later, then!"

"Good-bye!" I called back before going to the store. I unlocked the door and had everything ready for the day before George arrived.

"Ready to open the shop, Hermione? Good. Sorry I'm late, but Angelina stopped by with some question about dinner for the wedding," he apologised with a smile.

"No problem, George. I'm going to be running the store while you two are on your honeymoon anyway, remember? It's good for me to get the practice and I don't mind at all," I assured him.

"I knew I could trust you. Now let's open the shop and let our waiting customers inside."

...

"Oh, I can't go through with this. I'm so nervous," Angelina said as she paced the room, Alicia and Katie following after her frantically to keep her from ruining the train of her gown. I stepped in front of her and placed a hand on each of her shoulders.

"Calm down, Angelina. Everything will be perfect," I assured her. She nodded and sat down, allowing Ginny to do her makeup while Katie finished fixing her hair. "I'll go check on the boys."

"Thanks, Hermione," Ginny said for Angelina as she continued applying cosmetics. I nodded and left, knocking on the door once I reached it. Ron answered.

"Everything all right with all of you?" I asked.

"Yep, everything's great. What about you?" he answered, nodding.

"Well enough. Well, I suppose we'll see you downstairs soon enough," I replied, smiling before heading back down the hall.

"Don't forget that we're walking in together!" he reminded me. I nodded absently, not turning around so he wouldn't see my frown. _Yes, I know that. Walking in together and sitting by each other and all that. And you're still obsessed with me_.

"How're the boys?" Ginny asked, the question muffled from the set of bobby pins she had sticking out of the side of her mouth as she worked on her hair.

"Just fine. Everything will be perfect," I assured them. Angelina looked up from where she and Alicia were talking to smile at me.

"I know it will be, Hermione, since you're managing it. I shouldn't be worried at all," she told me. I blushed and managed to smile. Thankfully, everyone seemed content to forget me again and I was soon back to ensuring everything was going according to schedule. By the time we were heading downstairs to line up, I had forgotten about being stuck with Ron. I sighed as he took his place beside me and pulled my arm through hi.

"Ready for this, 'Mione?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be," I replied glancing behind me to make sure Angelina was still on her feet. She was beaming with happiness. "They'll be so happy together."

"And it'll be good for George to settle down away from Fred," Ron added quietly. The insight the comment took surprised me and he rolled his eyes. "Even _I_ can see that they aren't doing well. Angelina will help with that."

"I agree," I conceded, looking ahead of me to watch as Katie and Charlie started down the aisle we had created outside. We followed after Fleur and Bill, the rest of the Weasley family following in their appropriate places. At last, Alicia and Fred—maid-of-honour and best man—entered and Angelina rounded the corner looking as beautiful as any young bride. _George is practically beside himself. They'll be so happy_. I watched the rest of the ceremony quietly and was glad when it was time to leave.

"Dance with me?" Ron asked as we headed toward the reception area. Knowing it was tradition, I nodded.

"Funny to think that it'll be Ginny next, isn't it?" I commented as we danced.

"Blimey! Don't remind me," he protested. "She's been mad."

"A girl only gets one wedding, Ron, and she's got the money to have any one she wants," I pointed out, looking over at where Ginny was dancing with Theodore. "They look almost as happy as George and Angelina."

"She shouldn't be dating a Slytherin," Ron grumbled. I rolled my eyes.

"There were Slytherin heroes at the end of the day as well," I pointed out. "Theodore was granted a medal of honour, if you remember correctly. Which is more than I could say for her _last_ boyfriend. He wasn't to be found in the battle _and_ he's fled the country now to avoid arrest over something they found in his house."

"She dated Zabini? Does she only like Slytherins?" he exclaimed exasperatedly. It made me laugh, despite everything, and he soon laughed with me, like we used to when we were at school.

"Well, her tastes have matured. She _was_ going for the angst-y sort. This is a definite improvement," I argued.

"Angst-y? What does that even mean? I thought she liked Harry," Ron asked confusedly. I bit back a smile.

"Yes, well, she did like him for a long time, but he wouldn't date her. She moved on," I answered.

"Oh. Hey, wanna dance this one with me too?" he asked as the song ended and a new one began. I shrugged and let myself be led through another dance. _It isn't too awful a way to spend my evening and it makes him happy. I may as well_.

...


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Are you sure you only want a firewhiskey?" Madam Rosmerta asked as she set the glass in front of me.

"No, that's all, Rosmerta. Why don't you take a seat for a minute? You look like you could use a firewhiskey yourself and it isn't so busy tonight," I invited. She sank into the chair next to me and poured herself a glass.

"One of these day, I'm going to hire some help around here. I'm starting to get too old for all this," she said with a laugh.

"I can help in the evenings, if you like," I offered.

"Would you? I would be grateful, Hermione. I know I could trust you around here. You have any heels?" she asked. At the shake of my head, she grinned and stood.

"All right, everyone! Time to close up tonight! Come back tomorrow, though, and I promise to stay open an extra hour!" she announced. The few patrons there on the late Tuesday night grumbled, but obediently left. She took my arm. "Let's go find you some bartending clothes."

"I didn't know that they were any different from normal," I protested. She laughed lightly.

"Do you really think I dress so prettily because I want to? Oh, no, Hermione. Barmaids have to dress to attract the eye and I know just how to do it," she informed me. Once she Apparated us to her favourite clothing store, she found me outfits to try on and we settled on a few that were modest enough for me to be comfortable while still attracting the eye. "Now a few pairs of heels and you'll be ready."

"Besides learning how to mix drinks," I pointed out. She laughed again.

"For the old fools that come into the Inn? Just mix any two things together and call it what they asked for. They never protest to a drink from a pretty girl," she told me. I laughed with her as we tried on more high-heeled shoes than I'd ever seen. I ended up with three pairs and she bought them and my clothes before I could protest. "That'll be for this week's pay. An advance, so to speak."

"Thanks, Rose. I think this might just prove to be a fun adventure."

"For the both of us, I would say."

...

"Are you sure you can't come to dinner, 'Mione?" Ron asked as he followed me about the bar.

"Clearly, I'm busy. Rose needed my help again tonight and I could use the money," I informed him. He sat down at an empty seat at the bar.

"Fine, then. I'll have a firewhiskey, please," he requested. I poured him a glad before going back along my rounds.

"'Lo, lovey, care to bring me another glass?" Mr. Gardner, a regular, slurred.

"I think you've had quite enough tonight, Mr. Gardner. Your wife wouldn't be happy with us if you stumbled home drunk again," I laughed. He laughed as well before abruptly falling asleep on the table.

"I'll get him, Hermione. Go see to your friend. It isn't every day someone walks in interested in more than just a drink or a pretty sight," Rosmerta pressed. Reluctantly, I returned to the bar and leaned against it by Ron.

"Firewhiskey satisfactory?" I asked.

"Oh, absolutely. Those are some high heels you're wearing, 'Mione. I've never seen any so high," he commented, glancing over the bar at my legs. I looked at the sparkling silver stilettos and smiled.

"They're pretty, aren't they? I bought them yesterday," I informed him.

"They look very nice on you, 'Mione. You look really nice today," he complimented, his face turning redder than his hair. _I suppose we're back to me settling again, aren't we? I knew this is what would happen_.

"Thanks, Ron. Here, have some more firewhiskey," I replied, smiling as I filled his glass again.

"Thanks, Hermione. You think you'd like to have a glass with me one day?" he invited.

"She'd love to. Friday night, seven o'clock," Rosmerta answered for me as she passed us to mix a drink. I blushed.

"Well, I guess I'll see you at seven, in that case. Where would you like to go?" I asked.

"How about a surprise?" he asked in reply, smiling. I returned his smile with a nod. _It is what is expected of me and it won't be so bad, surely. If it is, I'll still have firewhiskey here to make it go away_.

...


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"_Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends. The question of self-pity_," I read. "Joan Didion, _The Year of Magical Thinking_. Self-pity. I think I've avoided that. I've been grieving over the loss of the three people closest to me, but I think I've avoided self-pity. I've just returned to my previous life trajectory, without the same career, of course. Actually, I don't think I would accept a position at the Ministry for all their money now. They're corrupt and they'll never change and I accept that now. Instead, I'll work with George to add a little fun to the lives of others and work with Rosmerta to give some comfort to wearied souls, even if it isn't the best way for them to deal with their problems. That's the best impact I can have."

"Hermione, are you ready?" Ron called from my front door.

"One second!" I replied, grabbing my handbag before running down to meet him. When I opened the door, he flushed brightly.

"You look...great, Hermione," he complimented uncertainly. I smiled as brightly as I could and put my arm in his.

"Thanks, Ron. You look fine as well. Now are you going to tell me where we're going this time or is it a secret like last time?" I asked cheerfully.

"Er...I didn't know where to take you tonight, 'Mione, so I thought maybe we could just go to Madam Puddifoot's or the Hog's Head," he answered, blushing brightly. _Remember the plan, Hermione. Remember how to hide_.

"I've never been to Madam Puddifoot's. Let's go," I answered, forcing my smile and voice not to waver. _This is the path you chose. Stick to it_.

"Oh? Really, 'Mione? I never thought you would actually agree," he exclaimed. I rolled my eyes and led him down the street. _Neither did I_.

"Let's go. It's chilly out and I, for one, could use a cup of tea."

...

"An instant...Self-pity," I murmured as I woke up. Realising I was focusing on what had happened rather than on my work again, I shook myself from the thoughts and went to take a shower. _At least it's Saturday. I have another two hours before it's time to go help Rose fix lunch for the earliest patrons and then stay to work. Perhaps I'll start _Blue Nights_. I'm getting rather fond of Didion_. After a few cups of tea and half my newest book, I pulled on a cloak and walked to the Three Broomsticks.

"Good morning, Hermione. Ready for work?" Rosmerta asked cheerfully.

"Ready as always. What's on the menu today?" I asked as I hung my cloak up.

"A good, stout stew. It's going to snow," she answered as she conjured her oversized cauldron from the kitchen.

"I know. It's freezing," I commented as I came over to help. We worked on the stew in companionable silence.

"Hermione, I've got a question I'd like to ask you. You've been working here for a few weeks now and I don't think there's anyone I would rather ask. How would you like to take over the Three Broomsticks?" she asked. I dropped the spoon I had been using and barely saved it from disappearing into the cauldron. "I know it's a bit of a shock, but I don't have any family and I would rather see the old Inn survive under a friend's hand than not at all."

"I'm...flattered, Rose, but I really couldn't accept—."

"Hermione, please, just say you'll take it. I'll stay around to help out for a few more months or another year or two, but I want to retire and I can only do that if I leave the Inn behind. I would like to leave it to you so I know it'll do fine without me. You're good at serving and you look great in heels—there's nothing else to it," she pressed with a smile.

"I suppose I must accept. Thank you, Rose," I accepted, feeling strangely unsettled by her kindness. _Or is it my sudden good fortune that bothers me? Surely such a happy thing must be followed by something awful, right?_

"Oh, thank you, dear! Let me go get the papers and we can sign it over to you now," she replied, giving me a quick hug before disappearing upstairs. By the time she came back downstairs with the papers, Ron had arrived. "Good to see you, Ron. Sit down there and I'll get you a bit of stew after Hermione signs these papers for me. She's about to be the new owner of the Inn."

"The new owner of the Inn?" Ron asked. Rosmerta nodded while I signed my name in the appropriate spaces.

"Yes, the new owner. I'm planning to retire soon and Hermione's the perfect girl to take over. Pretty curls, pretty eyes, and pretty in heels with a bottle in her hand," Rosmerta chuckled. I rolled my eyes at her and smiled while I handed the papers over. She looked them over quickly. "Yes, that seems to be it. Take care of the place. I'm going to go to the Ministry to make the transfer official."

"See you when you get back, Rose," I replied as she Disapparated. I turned toward Ron to find him staring at me in shock. "Would you like a firewhiskey or a bowl of stew, Ron?"

"No, I don't want anything," he answered, his expression souring. "Well, this certainly ruins my plans."

"What plans, Ron?" I asked absently as I returned my attention to fixing the stew.

"Well, I was going to ask you something," he admitted. I turned around so quickly I nearly lost my balance and saw in his blush that my fears were well-founded. _I knew something bad would happen_.

"You may as well ask anyway," I suggested, offering him a cheerful, unknowing smile that almost hurt it was so false. He looked at me for a minute before getting down on one knee and I closed my eyes to try to collect myself. _Oh, Merlin, don't let me have a panic attack! Please stop shaking, Hermione. You can handle this. You knew it was coming_.

"Well, er...I know we haven't been dating very long, Hermione, but we've been friends for a long time, so that makes up for some of it, and I've always loved you, you know, so I was wondering if may you would marry me?" he asked, speaking quickly as his face turned redder and redder. I looked at the gold ring he showed me and realised that the plain ring was probably all that he could afford.

"I will," I agreed, giving him my hand. He slipped the ring on my finger with a sort of awe on his face.

"Blimey, I didn't think you would agree," he whispered before kissing the back of my hand. I felt my face grow warmer and warmer as I began to feel sick. _Does Ron deserve better? Does he deserve someone who could actually love him? Am I making a mistake?_

"Of course I would agree," I soothed in a voice far calmer than I felt.

"Oh, well look at that! It's turning out to be quite a day for you, isn't it?" Rosmerta exclaimed as she Apparated back into the room. "Owner of the Inn _and_ engaged? Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Rose," I answered. "I've almost finished with the stew, if you'd like me to go tidy up the bar before opening the doors."

"By no means! You let your fellow take you out somewhere to celebrate or go and share the news. No work for you today, boss or not. Go on now," Rosmerta insisted, pushing us toward the door. She beamed at me when I glanced at her over my shoulder. "Good-bye, dear!"

"Bye, Rose," I replied after she shut the door between us. I turned to Ron.

"D'you...er...think we ought to go tell Mum and the family?" he asked, his face red again.

"Yes, that would be wise. I'll Apparate us, since I'm better at it," I replied. He nodded and took my arm. Once we arrived on the doorstep of the Burrow, we stepped inside to find the entire family gathered, including Angelina and Ginny's soon-to-be husband Theodore. "Good morning, everyone."

"Well, I didn't expect you to be here today, Hermione. Don't you usually work on Saturdays?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a voice of pleasant surprise as she gave me a hug.

"I had some news to share. We did, actually," I said, looking at Ron. He was blushing so brightly I knew he wouldn't be capable of saying anything clearly. "Ron and I are engaged."

"Bless my soul! Engaged!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she pulled me into such a tight hug I thought it would snap my spine. "Oh, welcome to the family, dear. Not that you weren't family before, but now you really will be."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," I murmured, watching as the others slowly came by. George smiled at me. "Oh, and I hate to tell you, George, but I can't work at the shop any more. I'll be running the Three Broomsticks Inn from now on. Rose gave it to me."

"Did she? Congratulations, Hermione! You must have all the luck!" he exclaimed. I merely smiled in response, not trusting myself to give an appropriate response. Once the others had offered their congratulations and moved about the house, Ron included, Ginny approached me.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?" she suggested, taking my arm without giving me a chance to answer. Once we were outside, she demanded, "What are you thinking? We promised each other that we wouldn't let the other settle!"

"You're settling for Theodore and his money," I protested.

"No, I actually _like_ Theodore. We fell in love over morning tea and gossip, if you'll believe it. You, however, don't love Ron," she argued.

"Of course I love him. We've been friends for ages," I answered instantly. One of her eyebrows went up.

"So you just can't wait until you're wedded and bedded? I thought not. You love him as a friend. We both know that. Don't act like we're fools, Hermione. What is this all really about?" she asked. I felt my lip begin bleeding, but chewed on it anyway. "Could you even be happy with him?"

"I'm not going to be happy, Ginny, no matter what. My chance at happiness was ended with a few rumours, an oven explosion, and a twenty year time spell," I protested. As soon as the words left my mouth, I blushed brightly. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, Hermione, you _did_ fall for him. I'm so sorry," she apologised, hugging me. "You really can't catch a break, can you?"

"No, I can't. Since I know I won't be happy, I thought to find solace in making someone else happy. I could keep Ron living in a world of bliss if I wanted to. I'm a good cook and a clean housekeeper, so I could give him an easy home life. It's the best I'm going to get," I whispered. She frowned at me with a look of pity. "Please, it's all I have. Don't take that away from me."

"I won't, Hermione. If this is what you want, I won't protest," she replied.

"Thank you, Ginny. Now you go back inside and start living your dreams with Theodore. I want to see you so happy that I won't even notice I'm not," I instructed, holding my head high. She smiled slightly at the image and nodded. _After all, you did have all the luck_.

...


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"No, I don't like that date," I protested, pointing to a different one on the magical calendar. "This one is much better."

"Hermione, that's a Thursday. You should plan the wedding for a weekend so everyone can make it," Ron protested. I shook my head resolutely.

"It's my wedding and I'll have it when I want it or I won't have it at all, Ronald, and that Thursday is the day I want," I informed him. _On that day, I will have been without him as long as I had him. The symbolism means everything_. Ron sighed.

"If that's what you want, 'Mione," he conceded. I gave him a sunny smile and kissed him on the cheek, already growing more used to the power of acting that I had acquired.

"Thank you, dear. We'd best go see what help they need. I'm sure there's work to be done before Saturday," I suggested. He nodded and I kept his hand in mine as we went outside to see how setting everything up was working. I left him with his brothers and father to go back to the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasley. "Need any help cooking? I've been told I'm an excellent chef."

"Oh, yes, dear. Could you make the cake? I'm just awful at decorating and I'm so busy with everything else," she requested.

"No problem, Mrs. Weasley," I assured her. "I fixed a date for the wedding. The twenty fifth of October."

"October? That's less than two months away, Hermione! Are you sure you don't want to wait a little longer?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No, that's the day I want to be married and Ron agreed," I answered placidly.

"Well, if that's what makes you happy, dear. Have you decided where to have it?" she asked.

"I'll have it in Hogsmeade. It's my home," I informed her. She nodded.

"And a pretty one at that. Oh, I won't know what to do with all my children leaving me like this. I suppose it's all part of growing older," she commented, tears in her eyes. Playing my part, I hugged her.

"I'm sure they'll all visit so often you'll hardly know the difference. Besides, you know Angelina and George probably won't make it a full year without giving you a grandchild. They want a baby so very much," I pointed out.

"Oh, grandchildren! How blessed it will be for little Victoire to have a cousin to play with!" she exclaimed, happy again. I went back to making the cake as I tried _not_ to think of children. _I may be a good actress, but I don't think I can go that far. I'll have to think of some reason why I can't have children. A disorder, perhaps? Polycystic ovarian syndrome? Ovarian _cancer_? Mysophobia?_

"I'm going to go outside for a moment. I need a bit of fresh air," I murmured after a moment. Mrs. Weasley nodded, busy cooking, and I slipped out the back door. I looked over the familiar landscape with a sigh. _Once upon a time, I liked this house and the people in it. Now they're just a reminder of what I'm about to do. I ought to just _Avada_ myself right here and now. It would be the best decision of my life_, I thought. Focusing on the idea made me find it more and more attractive, so I walked out into the fields around the Burrow, trying to distract myself.

"Fifty days until I'm married. How strange it seems to think about it," I muttered. _Two days until Ginny's wild, expensive wedding and then forty eight until my quiet little match. At least Ron doesn't expect to move in with me yet. My excuse about needing to move into the Three Broomsticks should keep all of his things out of my house until at least the honeymoon is over_. I shivered in revulsion. _How am I to make it through the honeymoon? Well, I suppose firewhiskey might work. Spiked with a nice, heavy vodka. And perhaps a sleeping potion. That should make everything perfect_.

"Hermione, are you out there? It's time for dinner!" Ron yelled. I looked up at the sound.

"Coming!" I called. _Yes. Potions and alcohol will make my marriage work out just fine_.

...

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, okay?" Ginny asked as she hugged me, already wearing the priceless dress she'd planned for the beginning of her honeymoon.

"I won't. Have fun on your honeymoon. I'll see you at my wedding," I replied. She smiled before Theodore took her hand and led her away. I waved until she was out of sight, ignoring Ron's arm around my waist as much as I could. I turned toward him once she was gone. "Oh, I'm exhausted. I think I'll head home now. Good night, Ron."

"I can take you back to your house," he said with a frown. I smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"I wouldn't want you to go out of your way, dear. You need rest as well," I reminded him before Apparating away. Once I was safely inside my house, I locked the door and sank to the floor. _Merlin, why did I agree? I know I wanted to make someone else happy, even if I had to be miserable, but did it have to be _Ron_? Everyone else is so glad to see us together, though. Perhaps I'm being selfish. After all, what happiness am I going to find? I may as well give it if I can't have it myself_. I got up and summoned a nightdress so I could shower.

Once my head hit the pillow on the couch, I started to cry. _Was that really the only chance I had at happiness? Those few months I had him here with me? The only time I would have an equal, a friend, a sweetheart? Why didn't I get any of the luck? Ginny's as happy as can be—rich, in love, with a good career and a wonderful family. I don't even _have _a family now_.

"Self-pity. That's what you're doing. Stop it. Time for bed," I told myself. With a sigh, I turned onto my side and gathered up my blanket, settling into the now-familiar cushions of the couch. _At least you have a comfy couch. That's something. And, once you move into the Three Broomsticks, there won't be any memories to bother you. You can sleep in a bed again and everything. Won't that be nice?_ I asked myself. As I drifted to sleep, I realised just how sad that would be without his beloved presence beside me.

...


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Well, you're halfway moved in now. I can start moving my things to my new house," Rosmerta commented cheerfully as she helped me move some of my things into the Inn.

"Where are you going to live?" I asked.

"Bonny Kellswater, where you get all the pleasures of life," she sang before laughing. "I have a little cottage out there that was left to me when my husband's father died. I was the closest relative."

"You were married, Rose?" I asked. She smiled wistfully.

"Once upon a time, yes. He was a tall man, with black hair and the bonniest blue eyes you ever saw. But, oh, he could make you laugh," she said, chuckling a little at her memories. "We got married a year after my parents died. He was there for me when no one else was and neither of us saw a reason to delay, even if we were only twenty at the time."

"I'll only be twenty-two when I get married," I pointed out. "I won't even by that until next week."

"Oh, I didn't mean for it to sound that way, dear. You're much more mature than I was. I thought marriage would be moonlight and roses, but I've since learned that that quickly turns into daylight and dishes," she assured me, smiling.

"Speaking of which, I believe we need to wash the dishes and start on lunch. Mr. Gardner should be arriving soon," I pointed out. She nodded and we headed downstairs to work. I was glad that my screaming had worked on Ron and he didn't show up until Weasley and Weasley had closed for the day. "Firewhiskey?"

"Yes, please, Hermione," he answered with a nod. I gave him the glass with a smile and a peck on the cheek.

"Good day at work, Ron?" I asked. He groaned and told me about his awful day and I listened attentively, acting as though I cared. _Really, you would think he would expect to have a few jokes played on him since he works at a joke shop, but he always acts so surprised. Bloody Gryffindor_, I thought. I froze once I realised my thoughts and quickly excused myself, running up to my room. I knelt on the floor and put my head between my knees to try to fight off the sickness rising in me. _Merlin, not now. I'm supposed to be getting over all this_.

"All right, Hermione? You didn't look like you were feeling very well," Rosmerta asked, knocking on my door lightly. She opened it and knelt at my side when she saw me. "What's wrong, dear?"

"I'm fine," I assured her. She gave me a look that told me she didn't believe it and I soon found myself telling her everything. She listened to me intently, only understanding in her face.

"You don't have to marry Ron, dear. You know that, don't you?" she said softly.

"But I do. It would make everyone else so happy and that's the most I can do. I can't do anything more than that, no matter how long a life I might live," I protested, wiping tears from my eyes. She smiled sadly.

"Such a pity, but if you're certain that this is what you want to do, dear, I'll help you in any way I can. Right now, I think you ought to go downstairs and work some. It will take your mind off everything else. That's how I always coped," she suggested quietly.

"That's what I usually do as well, so perhaps you're right. Let's go back downstairs."

...

"I can't believe we'll be married in three weeks," Ron commented, eyes wide as he sipped his tea.

"Well, you should get used to the idea. I won't delay the wedding just because you're in shock," I informed him, smiling to soften my words. He laughed, taking it as a joke.

"You'll be more frightening than Mum, I think, Hermione," he laughed.

"Thank you," I murmured with a cheery smile. "How was work today? Was Fred doing any better?"

"Oh, he's doing okay. He misses George and that seems to be making him calmer. He hasn't hexed or jinxed anyone all week, at least," he explained. I prompted him more and listened attentively as he told me about his day, wanting to know more about Fred. _If George's absence works like Ron seems to think it has been, he might just grow up yet. Not enough to make him stop loving his pranks and jokes—George still loves them—but enough to take the carelessness and, I hope, the malice out of them_. "Have you picked out the patterns for the wedding?"

"You can pick the robes. Make sure they're all black and white with no other colours and it won't matter what they look like. I was planning to go dress shopping in just a few minutes," I informed him.

"Oh, well, sorry to interrupt. You told me about that and I forgot. I'd better go," he apologised quickly, turning red in anticipation of a frown or a scolding. I smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Ron. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I asked. He nodded and fled the Three Broomsticks, clearly terrified I would be angry with him. I chuckled as Rosmerta approached.

"You _do_ have him in your control, that's for sure. Are you leaving soon to do your shopping?" she asked.

"Yeah, I just reminded him about it, so that's why he ran away. You don't mind watching the Inn?" I asked. She smiled.

"Of course not. It won't be long until I leave it," she reminded me. "Now you go and pick the prettiest dress you can find. If you think it's too expensive, all the better."

"Thanks, Rose. I'll see you later," I told her, smiling as I turned to leave. Once I Apparated out of Hogsmeade, I went to a Muggle dress shop. _This was where Mum got her dress and I'd like to have that connection. I want to feel like she'll be with me, even though she won't be_.

"Good evening, love. What can we help you with?" a stylishly dressed woman asked as I walked into the store.

"I'm here to find my wedding gown. I'm not sure what type would be best," I admitted. She quickly whisked me further into the store and brought out a series of dressed. Unable to really think about them, I asked, "What one do you think was prettiest?"

"Well, I liked the cap-sleeved Empire was my favourite, but this is about _you,_ love. You should pick the dress that you like best," she pressed, eyeing a rack that I was sure held more expensive gowns. I shook my head and smiled.

"I'll take the Empire line," I told her. She smiled and took me next to the veils and other accessories. Like I did with the dress, I merely accepted whatever article she deemed most appropriate. I paid for them and took them with me back to the Three Broomsticks, my official home, regardless of the lies I told Ron about having more in my old house down the street. I slipped into my room and threw my purchases carelessly against the armchair I kept beside my bookshelf. _Well. It's certainly more real now. I'm actually getting married. Pity I'm going to hate every moment of it_.

...


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Are you _certain_ you won't come to the bachelorette party I planned?" Ginny asked for the thousandth time, giving me a pleading expression. "You already refused the bridal shower, so you should _at least_ come to the bachelorette party."

"Absolutely not. I have no need of such nonsense and I work at a bar, so I'm familiar with the process," I answered, shaking my head resolutely.

"Please, Hermione? I worked so hard to plan it," she whined. "I even came back from my honeymoon a week early."

"Go enjoy the party yourself. I will not go under any circumstances," I informed her. She sighed.

"You aren't any fun, Hermione," she grumbled.

"Good. That was my intention," I retorted. We laughed at the hilarity of it.

"Okay, I guess you won't come to the party, so I'll have to cancel it. Say I brought the booze to your house, though, and brought Luna along too?" she suggested.

"I suppose that would be all right," I sighed.

"Great! We'll be by in an hour," she informed me before Disapparating. I sat down on the edge of my bed and summoned a book. _I may as well read while I can. It won't last_. As promised, Ginny and Luna came up the stairs to my room in an hour, laden with enough booze for the three of us to be roaring drunk for the night and completely incapable of doing anything in the morning.

"Hello. What, exactly, are you planning for us to do?" I asked, directing my greeting at Luna and my question at Ginny. Ginny grinned.

"A bit of drinking and girl-talk, nothing unusual," she promised. Luna nodded passively.

"Perhaps then you'll tell us why you're marrying a man you neither love nor respect," she commented dreamily.

"What? Okay, you must've started drinking a bit too early, Luna," I laughed nervously. She pinned me with a mild look that let me know there was no way I would convince her of anything but what she already thought. "Pass me something, Ginny."

"Let's get this party started."

...

"You're looking pale, dear. Why don't I find you something to eat?" Mrs. Weasley fussed.

"Mum, if you so much as _try_ to feed her anything else, her dress won't fit. She ate some toast. She'll be fine," Ginny assured her as she finished pinning up my hair. "Why don't you go down, Mum, and make sure the food is ready? We're going downstairs now."

"I'll see you when you 'round the corner, then," Mrs. Weasley replied, wiping a tear from her eye as she left the room. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"You look lovely, Hermione," she promised. "Luna, are you ready?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Luna replied dreamily. I smiled at her and followed the two of them downstairs. As my father was gone, I requested that I walk down the aisle by myself. As such, I watched as everyone else walked, one by one, to the little Ministry man standing at the end of the street. I followed after the last of them and focused on a cloud above Ron's head while I walked down the aisle, feeling sicker with each step. I focused on the murmurs of the crowd to ignore the ringing in my ears and made it to the front.

"Gentle witches and good wizards, we are gathered here today..." the Ministry man began. I tuned out his words and focused on keeping myself from running away. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and frowned. It continued and I turned to see someone taking the corner chair of the back row—someone tall, someone I could never forget. I stared for a moment before shoving the bouquet toward Ron. After a moment, he took it confusedly and I took one angry step before remembering I could Apparate. I did so and landed half a foot in front of Severus Snape. For a moment, we merely stared at one another. _Smack!_ The echoed from my palm striking his face was almost as loud as a crack of thunder.

"How dare you? How dare you not say a word to me—not tell me you survived—and then show up at my wedding? How dare you show your face to me after all the pain you caused? Why didn't you tell me you were alive? Why are you here? I swear on Merlin's grave that, by the time I'm finished with you, you'll wish you never made the mistake of showing up here!" I shouted, burning with rage. He smirked in response and I stamped my foot before shoving him backwards, making him fall over the chair. "I'm going to beat you senseless!"

"Is that Professor Snape?" I heard Ron ask quietly, breaking the silence. I turned toward him and he staggered back in fear.

"And _you_, Ronald! It didn't bother you at all that you knew I didn't love you, did it? Oh, _no_, of course not! I said yes, didn't I? That was all that mattered. Well, I'll tell you now, Ron, that I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man alive! I must've been out of my mind to agree to something that would so clearly cause us both unhappiness. Sorry, everyone, but it looks like there _won't_ be a wedding today," I bellowed. They sat in silence, all shocked into perfect stillness.

"There could be," Luna commented, pinning Harry with a knowing look. Harry flushed and stood when I nodded.

"Well, er, do you want to get married, Luna?" he asked. She nodded and took his hand lightly, leading him up to the altar. I turned back to Snape.

"_We_'re leaving. I'm not finished with you," I growled at him, grabbing the collar of his frock to Apparate us away. Without thinking, I took us to my apartments in the Three Broomsticks. I shoved him into my armchair and crossed my arms over my chest. "_Three hundred days_, you let me think you were dead. I agreed to _marry Ronald_, I was so distraught. Explain yourself immediately!"

"I was unsure what to do. I'm twenty years older than I was the day you sent me back. Due to that, I thought it would be best that I not reveal myself to you and allow you to live whatever natural course your life took without me. When I heard about your wedding, I had to come. I didn't intend for you to see me, but I wanted to see you and know whether or not you were happy. I wanted to see how you coped," he explained.

"How. I. Coped? I _didn't_, Severus! How could I cope in a world where everything I loved was gone?" I asked angrily. Realising I'd told him I loved him yet again, I stomped my foot so hard that the heel of my shoe snapped off. "_Now_ look what you've done!"

"I hardly think that was my fault, Gryffindor," he chuckled. I lasted only a second before I began to laugh and summoned my armchair to sit down in front of him to talk.

"So," I said simply.

"So," he echoed, his face and voice as serious as mine.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"That depends. We've both changed. I lived twenty years without you and you lived a long and difficult bit of time without me. As I'm so much your superior, I would say that it would be best if you were to find a companion among those closer to your age," he suggested.

"Clearly, that isn't going to work. I just stormed out of my own wedding, if you remember correctly," I reminded him. "_That_ was your fault."

"I'll take the blame for that. It would've killed me to watch you marry that weasel," he murmured. I felt a long-forgotten jolt run through me and looked up at him with wide eyes. I saw the marks of age on his face, but they didn't bother me. I knew, after all, how he had gained them and I knew all that he had done to protect our world.

"I'm glad you were there to stop me. I would've been miserable," I admitted. "Speaking of killed, however, why don't you tell me how you survived?"

"The letter. It described my death in great detail and I took appropriate anti-venom and healing potions before I went to see Voldemort. I faked my death and placed a false body in my place as soon as you and your friends were gone. After that, I Apparated to my house and have lived there quietly like a Muggle ever since," he explained.

"And yet you never gave me any word to let me know you were alive," I stated, frowning. He touched my hair softly, as though worried I would smack him.

"I didn't want to ruin your life," he whispered. "At this age, I was your teacher. It would have been inappropriate for me to be with you."

"It was monstrous for you to avoid me," I replied, taking his hand and holding it to the side of my face. "I don't care if you've changed, you know. You're still you and I made the decision back then that I would love you until the day I die, no matter what would come. I know you never said it, but I hope that you truly cared for me as well."

"I loved you. I still do," he murmured, drawing me closer to him. Foreheads together, we merely sat in silence, feeling the other's presence as closely as the life-giving breath in our lungs.

"Would you like to try this again? _Without_ a time-spell this time?" I asked.

"I would like nothing more."

...


	31. Epilogue

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I own nothing but the plot. Everything you recognise is, of course, owned by Ms. Rowling and all credit for such goes to her.

...

"Good evening, Ms. Granger," Headmistress McGonagall greeted as she entered the Three Broomsticks.

"Good evening, Minerva, but I told you to call me Hermione. How are you? Here, let me help with that," I replied, helping her take off her cloak.

"I'm well, thank you, Hermione. How has business been?" she asked.

"Wonderful, of course. Students always will love butterbeer, I think," I told her, smiling as I led her to a table. "What will you have today?"

"A butterbeer, for nostalgia's sake," she answered with a smile. I gave her a bottle and leaned on the counter across from her. She looked around the room. "I see the Potions Master hasn't snuck out of the castle yet."

"He will soon," I assured her. "He probably ran into someone on his rounds."

"He always finds them," she commented, shaking her head. "He catches more of them than anyone."

"I'd say that means he was out a few too many times as a student. It's always the best that catch the most," I suggested, smiling brightly. She nodded in agreement.

"Oh, he likes to think he was a sneaky student, but I caught him out once or twice. Did he ever tell you about the time he fell into the lake because I startled him so much when I caught him?" she asked, giggling at the memory.

"I hardly think you should be sharing stories about students, Minerva, or I may have to ask the portraits in your office about your own school days," Snape drawled from behind her. We smiled at him and motioned him to the seat next to her.

"Here's some wine, Severus. How many students did you catch tonight?" I asked.

"All of the next generation of Weasleys. It seems that the young Potters and the young Weasleys were planning some sort of after-hours party in the Room of Requirement," he informed us. I rolled my eyes.

"They are their parents' children. Was even little Remus Severus involved? I thought he was such a good boy," I asked.

"Yes, even Remus was involved. It would seem that he was the one _bright_ enough to recommend the Room of Requirement," he answered. "Of course, I expected as much from the only Slytherin of the group."

"Hey, now. Let's not start the House bashing. Try to remember that you're sitting beside two proud Gryffindor girls," I reminded him.

"Ah, one, I'm afraid. I must get back to the school," McGonagall said, standing. She smiled at Snape. "I'll see you at breakfast, Severus, I hope."

"I will be there," he conceded.

"Only if I let him out. If not, you can spare him until class time, can't you?"

"I can hardly argue with his wife."


End file.
